


Basil

by Kenabee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, Honestly I’m not sure any of this makes sense, M/M, Purely for my own satisfaction, Slytherin AU, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherin Hermione Granger, Slytherin Ron Weasley, basil the snake, because why not, gratuitous cursing, i literally gave Harry a snake familiar and put him in Slytherin, not very Molly Weasley friendly, they’re gonna be a lil bit messed up, this is turning out to be a lot longer than it should
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:08:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 34,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26076973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kenabee/pseuds/Kenabee
Summary: Harry Potter, on his way to Olivander’s to get his wand, meets a snake. She’s been waiting for him.Or:Harry Potter has a Snake familiar and gets put in Slytherin at her insistence. So do Hermione and Ron. A lot of things change because of this, the least of which being all their morals
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass/Pansy Parkinson, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson/Ron Weasley, Theodore Nott/Harry Potter, daphne greengrass/Ron Weasley/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 20
Kudos: 211





	1. The Philosopher’s Stone

When Harry Potter’s watch stroke midnight upon his eleventh birthday, in a shack secluded somewhere in the middle of an ocean, he wasn't expecting much. Nothing at all really, maybe some passive aggressive comments from the Dursleys, a shove from Dudley. 

A giant of a man waltzing in and proclaiming he was a wizard? Yeah, definitely unexpected. Learning his parents were killed by a dark wizard and he survived a killing curse that destroyed said wizard? Even more unexpected. 

The next day, they're walking out of this bank. Goblins are staring at him and he feels so exposed he doesn't know what to do. By the time they're out of the building, Harry's skin is crawling and he just wants to be alone. 

Of course, he can't, because there's the list. A school list with things like pewter cauldron (not gold, unfortunately), or wand, and robes. He's not sure what any of it means, but he follows Hagrid until suddenly he's talking about an errand he needs to run, and up the street is Ollivanders, best Wandmaker in the world. So, Harry takes the list and walks down the street. 

He makes it about ten feet when he hears it. The distinct hssss, like the time in the zoo. He turns his head and looks back up the street, tracking Hagrid as he turns a corner. The hssss calls again, and without consciously deciding, Harry is following the sound. He comes to a stop outside a dingy store. The windows are caked with dirt and dust, and the sign Shyverwretch’s Venoms and Poisons. He's walking through the door before he can even recognise the sense of fear running down his spine. 

The minute the door opens, the hsss silences, and Harry's left staring at and old man, glaring down at him from the counter. 

“What do you want, boy?” The mans creaky voice seems to come from all around the store, and a shiver runs down Harry's spine. 

“I-er, I heard something…” he trails off when the man quirks an eyebrow. He goes to open his mouth, but before he says anything back, a resounding hssss comes from Harry's right. 

Turning quickly, he eyes a slithering form as it weaves through the shelves towards him. It's a shorter snake, not even a foot long, distinct by the blend of blue and green scales, and he thinks it's probably young. Above the snake, a chest of drawers is overflowing with them, all different varieties. When the snake reaches him, it raises its head. Immediately, Harry crouches so as to better face it. 

“Hello,” the snake starts, “I've seen you coming.”

“Seen me coming?” Harry asks, “What does that mean?”

“Boy, what are you doing!” The man behind the counter shouts, interrupting the snakes reply. The snake immediately turns its eyes on him, and he shrinks back slightly. Interesting, Harry thinks, he's afraid of his own pet. 

“I have found him.” The snake rises a little higher, seeming to extend its body. The mans face seems to clear a bit at his words, and he suddenly turns behind the counter and disappears through a door. 

“What just happened?” Harry asks, and the snake turns back to him, body deflating to the original size. 

“I have claimed you. You are mine and I am yours.” The snake says, and then drops to slither around Harry's foot, then climb up his leg. 

“I'm sorry, I'm very new to this, I don't really understand what you're saying.” Harry tries to explain, but the snake just keeps climbing him, until it's wrapped around his shoulders, seeming to have shrunk down in size even further. 

“Ah yes,” the snake hisses, “muggles. You do have a name for me, I believe it is pet?”

Harry looks down at the snake curled over his shoulder sort of dumbstruck. He knew being a wizard would be a change, but this feels like a lot. 

“Er, okay? Don't I have to pay for you? Where did the owner go?” He asks, and he thinks the snake starts laughing. 

“Shyver does not own me, so I am not his to give.” And Harry think he understands, but he still pulls out a gold galleon and puts it on the counter. He thinks the snake is rolling its eyes, but he's not really sure how that works and doesn't want to question it. 

“Okay, well I still have to get a wand, are you going to stay with me?” He asks, and the snake nods. It's then he realises, “I don't know your name?” 

“I do not have one, I have been waiting for you.” Harry blinks in surprise at that. 

“Well, do you have any names you like?” He doesn't think it's fair to name a snake that can talk when it can name itself. 

“You must name me. It will create our bond.” The snake definitely sounds worried, as if Harry might say no to naming it. 

“Oh, okay. Well, tell me about yourself? I don't even know if you're a boy or a girl.” 

“I am a girl. You must name me without my input, or it may not work.” Again, Harry thinks she sounds nervous. He doesn't want her to run off, the weight of her is very comfortable, like she fits there perfectly. 

“Well, you're very green. What about…Basil?” He asks. 

“Basssssil.” The snake repeats, sounding like she's tasting it on her tongue. “Yes, I quite like that. And you are Harry Potter.”

“Uh, yes. How did you know that?” Harry asks. 

“Everyone knows who you are. You'll see.” She says, then curls more so her head is resting nearer his neck. “I am tired.” Is all she says, before her body loosens. She slithers down into his pocket, and he thinks she's probably asleep already. Unsure how to handle this, Harry decides leaving the dusty shop is the best idea, and quickly heads back up the street he started from. 

Turning back into the busy street, he heads back towards the wand shop, Ollivander's. Entering the store, the busy sounds from the street go quiet, and he walks towards the empty counter. Eyeing the bell, he hits it once. 

The man comes out of nowhere, and the look on his face is one Harry has the feeling he might get a lot, for whatever reason. The man is beaming and talking, showing him wand after wand that don't feel right. Until, the one that does. 

The owner, Ollivander, seems worried about it being this wand, but before Harry can ask, Hagrid is tapping on the window with a beautiful white owl. 

The rest of Harry's day is a blur, and by the time he's entering the train station, he's nearly forgotten about Basil in his pocket, until she shifts and he feels her head about to pop up. He pats his pocket lightly, hoping she can tell it means stay still.

“I'm late!” Hagrid is saying, then saying goodbye and before Harry can ask about Basil or Platform 9¾ he's gone. Staring at his ticket, he heads down to the platform between the two. He asks the ticket master, but he scoffs at him, so sheet figures he's a muggle. A second later, Basil is sliding her head out of his pocket to look around. 

“You have to go through the wall.” She says, and Harry looks at her incredulously. Huffing, she turns her head and seems to point with it. Harry looks, and sees a family of redheads. Two boys, identical twins, run straight through a wall. Harry's eyes fly wide, and he quickly walks up to the family to ask. 

The woman seems nice, but Basil has disappeared back into his pocket, so he tries to move to the train as fast as possible. He can feel the anxiety from her in his pocket, quivering a bit. By the time he's situated on the train, she shaking, and pulls her out carefully. 

“We’re alone.” He whispers to her, and she slithers up onto his shoulders, curling her head into his neck. “Are you okay?” He's asks. 

“I do not like strangers. Or crowds. It is easy to get stepped on.” She says

“Oh, okay. I'm sorry.” He says, and she's about about to answer, when the door starts to slide open. Basil is off his shoulders and in his pocket so fast, the redheaded boy who enters doesn't even see her. 

“Everywhere else is full, mind if I sit here?” Harry nods, but finds himself disappointed that he won't be talking to Basil instead. “I'm Ron, Ron Weasley.”

“Harry Potter.” He sticks his hand out to shake, but the boy is now staring at him slack jawed. 

“Y-you,” he stutters, “you're Harry Potter. Do you have th-the…” he trails off but Harry gets what he means. He lifts his hair and the boy gapes at him a bit. Harry shrugs and lets his hair fall. The boy goes to say something, but the door opens again, this time the trolley cart is coming by. 

The offer of chocolate frogs and sweets makes Harry's mouth water, and Ron looks miserable about his sandwich, so Harry figures he can buy enough for all three of them. 

It's not until Scabbers, the pet rat, is out and Ron is trying to cast a spell on him, that he thinks about Basil wanting something. Of course, she chooses that moment to leave his pocket, and slide onto his lap. She's eyeing the rat, so Harry pets her absently, trying to communicate she can't eat it. When he looks back up Ron is staring at him open mouthed. 

“What?” He asks. 

“Th-that's a snake. You have a snake!” He pints at Basil with the wand still in his hand, and Basil tenses. 

“Yes, this is Basil. She's my…. pet.” He says, although the word feels wrong. He puts his hand around her some more, trying to keep her covered form the pointed wand. Ron lowers his hand slowly and nods, clearly a little panicked. 

“Okay, just, just keep her away from Scabbers!” He says, moving to pull his rat into his arms. 

“Basil wasn't going to eat him.” Harry's says, then turns to Basil, “were you?” She shakes her head and Harry nods, satisfied. Ron is staring open mouthed again, but before he can say what he's thinking the door opens again. 

A girl with thick, bushy hair leans in. She looks frustrated, her dark skin a little sweaty, as if she's been running about the same train. 

“Have you seen a toad? A boy named Neville’s lost one.” She's eyeing them skeptically, and Harry feels Basil shift in his lap at the mention of a toad. The girl's eyes narrow on him and he shakes his head. She eyes Basil, but says nothing. “Your glasses are broken, let me fix those.” She casts a spell and suddenly Harry's glasses are sitting straight, and clean. 

He feels Basil move, lifting her head to angle and dip towards the girl. He thinks that might be her way of showing approval. The girl nods back at Basil, before looking up at him again, her eyes going wide. “You're Harry Potter! I've read all about you.” And Ron is rolling his eyes behind her back but Harry is interested in what she has to say. Of course, all it is is about Hogwarts: A History, so not that helpful. 

Eventually the girl leaves them, and he and Ron sit in silence for a minute. Ron is still eyeing Basil, and Harry is trying not to be offended by it. Eventually scabbers struggles and leaves Ron’s lap, heading back for the pile of candy. Basil watches with a bored look, before dropping her head back to Harry's lap and closing her eyes. Ron seems to let out a breath, and they return to easier conversation. 

By the time they pull up to the castle, Basil is curled up on his neck and scabbers is asleep on Ron’s lap. When they stand to exit the train, Basil quickly retreats to Harry's pocket, and scabbers disappears somewhere with Ron. 

Harry sits on the edge of the boat, so Basil can peek out his pocket. Hedwig and his trunk have supposedly been taken for him. Leading all the boats sits Hagrid, his large form almost blocking some of the castle, until they turn a bit and Harry can see the full image. 

It's breathtaking, the towers and bridges all around, like something straight out of a fairytale. The boats are moving fast, so he can't focus on too much, but he sees a tower with odd shapes inside, and he swears he can hear owls hooting from another. 

By the time they reach the shore, Basil is nearly out of his pocket, quivering in anticipation. He quickly shuffles her back in, and he stands with the other students. He’s with Ron, and the bushy haired girl (Hermione, he thinks someone called her), she's talking to another girl, and they don't look happy. Suddenly the other girl bites out something and Harry notes tears well in Hermione's eyes. Basil is twitching, and not really thinking about it, he pushes himself between the two and glares at the girl. She looks at him defiantly, before her eyes flicker to his scar. Her mouth goes slack and she quickly steps back. When Harry looks away, Ron is standing on the other side of Hermione. He's not sure why he did what he did, bus Basil has calmed down, which makes him feel better. 

A blonde boy steps in front of Hermione and Ron, and sneers at Ron, making some comment about red hair and being poor. It rankles Harry, and Basil shifts again. When the boy turns his eyes on Hermione, Harry steps up next to her again, and they boy's eyes narrow. But, before he can open his mouth, a woman with a pointed hat steps up behind him. Noting all eyes above him, the boy turns and flushes. 

“I am Professor McGonagall. The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room.” She goes on to explain the houses, and Harry feels Basil jump slightly at the name Slytherin. 

By the time they enter the hall, Harry's is full of anxiety. Walking between the four tables, all eyes on them, he thinks Basil digs herself deeper in his pocket. A tall man, with a white beard that seems to go on for miles is standing at the front of the room. Harry recognises him from the chocolate frog card Ron told him about, Headmaster Dumbledore.

“The very best of evenings to you!… to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you…” he goes on, but Harry only barely listens, until he announces “the third floor is off limits to all, unless one wish to experience certain death.” Harry looks around, but he's really only one of a few who finds this information shocking and terrifying.

Basil is twitching again in his pocket, but when the hat starts singing, she stills, until they reach:

“Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folks use any means  
To achieve their ends.”

At that, Basil begins shifting again, Harry thinks she's making a circle in his pocket, all energy over the house. When the cheers from the room calm down, McGonagall begins calling out names. 

“Hermione Granger!” Professor McGonagall calls out. Hermione mutters under her breath, but eventually makes it through the crowd to the stool, the hat settling on her head. 

“Hmm, yes. Very interesting. Intelligent, you do love to learn, and teaching others. And friendship. You wish for friends, but have not found ones who will stay.” Hermione blushes as that, but a steely look enters her eyes. “Ah yes, there you are. That's what I was looking for. That ambition. You will do what you need, won't you? Yes, well. Better be Slytherin!” The table against the far wall has a few scattered claps, but Hermione’s faces is white as a sheet, and she almost looks like she's going to be sick. She makes her way to the table, and a girl nudges her, striking up a conversation, but just as quickly that girls face goes slack, and she turns her back on her. 

Names are continued, until “Harry Potter!” The quiet chatter in the background completely stops, until Harry is sitting on the stool, looking up; all eyes are on him, and then the whispers start again. The hat rests on his head, and the sensation of something entering his mind stops him cold. 

“Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, Ah, my goodness, yes -- and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting.... So where shall I put you?" The hat said to him, and Harry suddenly felt Basil shift. 

“Ah, so that's different.” The hat says. “A talent like that should be cultivated. You will do great things, and with her by your side you will need a house to accept the ambition you hold. Yet, there is that bravery. That little streak saying ‘don't give in’ yes, very hard indeed.” Harry feels Basil shift again, head head nosing towards his right. Harry shifts his focus, and sees the green and black stripes shining on banners over the table. There, he thinks, that's the one. The sorting hat seems to breathe in deep, almost as if surprised. “Well, if you're sure. SLYTHERIN.” It shouts, and the entire hall goes silent. Not a single clap is heard, until the hat is removed and he steps off the stool. 

The shocked faces around him are all that register, until the loudest cheering of all begins from the Slytherin table. He walks numbly to the table, not entirely sure what just happened. Names continue to be called as he sits next to Hermione, they glance at each other but stay silent. Approving glances are sent down the table at him, and a few get up to pat him on the back, but the quiet shock seems to remain. Harry accidentally catches Headmaster Dumbledore’s eyes, and is shocked to note something akin to fear in them. 

The sorting hat continues, name after name called out, until “Ronald Weasley!” Is called, and he walks to the stool. Harry and Hermione both look over. 

“Ah, another Weasley. Although, not much the same. Are you so sure you wish to follow in the same steps as before?” The hat begins to whisper then, and Ron straightens. “Well, alright then. Be so stubborn. It won't change where you belong. Better be… Slytherin!” 

Ron yanks the hat off his head, and throws it on the chair, stomping away. Polite applause comes from the Slytherin table, but it's nearly drowned out by the sounds of outrage from the Gryffindor table. Turning, Harry catches the two identical redheads, and a third redhead next to them shouting. They're all glaring right at the hat, as if it has personally offended them. 

Ron sits next to Harry with a huff, but says nothing at his and Hermione's questioning looks. There's only three names after Ron (Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff), and by the time the rest of the students are sitting, Dumbledore is standing. 

Dumbledore begins another speech, but Harry forgets to listen when he notices the whispering down the table. Not about him, but about Hermione. Pointed fingers and sneers, her face seems to go even whiter. At some point food appears on the table, surprising Harry. He looks up, and across the table locks eyes with the blonde boy from before. He quirks an eyebrow at Harry, but says nothing, continuing to serve food onto his plate. 

The rest of the meal goes like that, mostly silent around the three of them, a muttered “pass the salt please” or two. Harry thinks the others probably would talk to him, but he feels oddly comfortable between Hermione and Ron. When dinner ends the other first years stand, and begin following a tall female prefect down out of the hall. They exit back towards the Entrance Hall, and turn right to a slightly hidden door. 

Walking down the stone steps, Hermione, Ron, and Harry seem to cluster together. The other first years clearly already know many of each other, and are chatting animatedly about a variety of subjects. People cast him glances every once in a while, but nobody attempts to speak with him. The three of them remain silent, until they enter a corridor and a large stone wall opens in front of them. 

Wandering through the entrance is like entering another world. The bright white lamps from the hall fade into a green and blue glow, the marble and stone along the wall blending together seamlessly to reflect the light, giving the whole room a brighter feeling that it should. Across the far wall is about 20 panes of glass, and the Great Lake is beyond it. Harry can see figures swimming by, and Hermione rushes over with a few other girls to wave at them. Ron and Harry hang back, but he feels Basil twitch again, and knows it's because she wishes she could see the room. Silently he promises to bring her down after everyone else is asleep. 

Looking around the rest of the room, his eyes snag on the plush blankets and couches, leather and velvet all around. Green and black are the most prominent colours, but blue and silver also appear. The left wall is covered in plants, cauldrons, and what looks like hundreds of books. The right wall is overlapped with tapestries, all depicting some past Slytherin who dedicated their life to something. Harry's eyes swivel around the room trying to take it all in, when he notices Ron is focused on Hermione and the group of girls. 

When the girl's around Hermione realise she's standing next to them, they take an obvious step away from her, and begin whispering all over again. Hermione’s face hardens, and Harry watches as that steely look enters her eyes again. She walks back to him and Ron, and they stand together, slightly apart from the others. 

“Alright kids,” the prefect announces, and they all turn to look at her. “First year girls are through the door to the right, boys to the left. Your rooms have been assigned and you'll find your trunks already at your beds.” She pauses and when no one moves, sighs. “Go! I'm not your babysitter.”

At once all the girls seems to take off, walking quickly towards their door. Hermione glances at them quickly, but steels her shoulders and walks confidently after the others. “Should've been a gryffindor” Harry hears Ron mutter, and he has to agree a bit. She does seem brave. But there's that look in her eye that tells him this is what she chose. 

The boys walk slower, Harry and Ron ending up in the middle of the pack. Peeking into each door, Harry looks for his trunk. When the third door opens, and he and Ron both find their trunks waiting, he breathes a sigh of relief.

The rooms have five beds each. Each draped with heavy green curtains. The beds themselves are plush, luxurious looking things, dark sheets and soft green and silver comforter. Harry moves to the one with his trunk and sits on it experimentally. It sinks, but not so much that he'll be absorbed by the mattress. It's nice, he thinks, if a little extravagant. 

The sound of voices from the door makes Ron and Harry’s head snap up. The blonde from earlier enters the room, followed by a tall skinny boy, and a dark skinned short one. They stop talking as they enter, and eye the two of them. Eventually the skinny boy steps forward a bit. 

“I'm Theo. Theo Nott. Welcome to Slytherin.” He sticks out his hand and Harry takes after only a second of hesitation. 

“Harry Potter.” He says and Theo smirks. 

“We know. That’s Draco,” he points to the blonde, “and that's Blaise. They're both dicks, so ignore them as much as possible.” Draco scoffs and Blaise rolls his eyes, but they don't argue. Theo turns to Ron then. “So, a Weasley in Slytherin. I'll be keeping an eye on you.” 

It doesn't sound like much of a threat, but Ron straightens anyways. “Probably a good idea.” Is all he says, but his refusal to shake Theo's hand gets the message across, and Theo nods after a moment, dropping his hand. 

Theo abruptly turns to his own bed, and starts unpacking into the dresser. Draco and Blaise do the same, so Harry and Ron turn to begin their own unpacking. Scabbers jumps out of Ron's pocket after a minute, and climbs lazily onto the bed. Eying the other three boys, and the the giant symbol of Slytherin on the wall, Harry decides its best to get it over with. 

“Er,” he begins, and clears his throat. The others glance at him but don't stop their unpacking. “So, I have to show you guys something, but don't freak out, okay?” The others exchange looks, and Ron's eyes go wide, but Harry figures it's now or never. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out the shrunken figure of Basil. She uncurls cautiously, and slowly winds her way up his arm, body expanding as she does. She weaves until she's wrapped around his shoulders, and then stills. 

Looking up, the faces of the other three are staring at her with a range of shock and interest. Draco is the first to look at Harry, and his mouth closes and opens a few times before he finds his voice. 

“What in the hell is that, Potter?” He sounds more curious than upset, but Basil still tenses and pulls closer into him. 

“This is Basil. She found me. Or I found her…. we found each other.” He decides on, and Basil nods her head. Draco’s mouth shuts with a snap, and he looks to Blaise and Theo. Theo is looking at her with the same look Hermione had, curious but not prying. Blaise is looking at her with straight admiration. 

“She's party occomy.” He says, and Harry isn't sure what that means, but Basil’s head whips up to face him so he figures it must be part right. 

“What's an occamy?” Harry asks, and Blaise turns his eyes on him. 

“They're a magical serpentine. They have wings and can adjust to any size to fit a space as they wish.” His eyes fade back to Basil. “She doesn't have the wings, although she's young so they might develop later.” 

“How do you know about them?” Harry asks, confused because he doesn't think the chapter index of his books mentioned anything about it. 

“My father had one. It's my mothers now.” Blaise says, and at the mention of his father, the other two boys look down at the ground. Blaise rolls his eyes at them and moves back to unpacking.

The other two turn back soon after, and that's that. Harry lets Basil onto the bed, and she quickly slithers to the wood posts to pull herself up and down one. Scabbers hides in Ron’s pillows whenever she looks his way, but Harry thinks she knows better than to go after him. 

Twenty minutes later there's a knock at the door. Draco is closest, and opens it to reveal Hermione standing there. He sneers at her, and says “What do you want, mudblood?” 

Instantly that look enters Hermione's eyes again, and Harry watches her fingers twitch around her wand. Before she can do anything though, he quickly says “Hey Hermione, come on in.” She looks at him and the look fades, leaving her slightly softer. Harry sees Draco blink at her before moving aside and sitting on his bed. 

Hermione enters, and her eyes immediately flick to Basil. “I never asked her name.” Is what she says, though Harry is fairly certain it's not what she came here for. 

“Basil. Wanna go for a walk?” He asks, and she nods. Reaching his arm out, Basil winds her way back on him, then shrinks down into his pocket. Ron gets up and follows them out the door, shooting a glare at Draco. 

Once they're in the hall, Hermione's shoulders sag and she leans against the wall for just second. Just as quickly though, she's up again and walking. Ron gives him a look that clearly reads crazy, but Harry pretends not to see it. They reach the common room and follow her to a corner by the glass wall. 

“Hermione,” Harry starts, and she turns her eyes on him, “what does Mudblood mean?”

She looks back towards the lake, but her shoulders are tight and he thinks there might be an unshed tear in her eyes. She take in a deep breath, let's it out, and then says, “It’s a foul term for witches and wizards with non-magic, muggle, parents. It's not usually heard in civilised conversation. In a way, it's like a racial slur. As if because my parents aren't magic, I am a lesser witch.” 

“Is that what the girl in the stairs called you?” Ron asks, and Harry is surprised he'd noticed that much. 

“Yes.” Harry can hear the steel in her voice, and he thinks it's really not fair. So what if her parents weren’t magic? She is now, isn't that all that matters? “I was scared when they sorted me here. Slytherin is famous for purebloods, and purebloods are famous for hating muggle-borns.”

They sit in silence absorbing what she said. After a minute she takes a deep breath and turns to face them. Eyes cleared, though still steely in an intimidating way, she tries to smile. 

Harry smiles tightly back. “I don't think anyone really expected the three of us to be here. A lot of people seemed quite upset when Slytherin called our names.” He says. 

“Well, I'm the first muggle born in a decade to be sorted into Slytherin, so that's probably why.” Hermione says, shrugging. 

“My entire family has been Gryffindor. We can trace it back like forty generations.” Ron says, looking out into the lake. “My parents are going to be so disappointed.” A few small creatures are floating about, and a floating piece he thought was seaweed seems to wave at them. Ron gives a halfhearted wave back. 

“Well I don't really know why I'm here. I think Basil is the one who really wanted this, she seemed to only react to them.” Harry says thoughtfully, thinking about her excitement over the name Slytherin. 

“I think everyone was the most shocked over you. Any other house would have been preferable.” Hermione says, which just confuses Harry more. 

“But why? What does it matter?” He asks, and both Hermione and Ron turn sympathetic gazes on him. 

“They think you-know-who was a Slytherin.” Ron whispers, and Harry feels it like a punch to the gut. His mouth opens in an ‘O’, but eventually closes and he just looks out at the lake. 

~~~

Charms and Transfiguration quickly blend together, he's paired with Ron, which makes him look much more talented than he is. Poor Ron seems to struggle with the most basic of spells at times, and other times excels at the complicated ones. It's a confusing process nobody seems to understand. 

It's flying class Harry seems to excel at. They share with Gryffindor, who seem like nice enough people, if cold to the Slytherins. When Neville Longbottom (the toad boy) loses control of his broom. The broom takes off, and when he gets stuck hanging on one of the statues, Harry feels an odd sensation take over, before he's suddenly in the air lunging for the boy. Neville starts to fall and Harry just manages to grab his arm. Lowering them down slowly, they reach the ground at an easy pace. Neville is in shock, that's obvious, but Madame Hooch looks equal parts terrified, angry, and relieved. She helps Neville up, checking him for injuries, but everything seems fine. 

Turning her gaze on Harry, he's expecting a reprimand for flying like that. Her expression is furious and if looks could kill he'd definitely be dead. Instead, she says “Ten points for Slytherin.” And then walks Neville away to sit down. The Gryffindors eye him, small smiles on some of their faces. The Slytherins look at him with a variety of looks, from anger to admiration. He walks back to Hermione and Ron, avoiding the others. 

It's potions class that makes Harry the most confused. The professor, Snape, seems more unsure of him than any other professor. He sits next to Hermione, who is eyeing the classroom with a look of hunger he didn't expect. Snape is berating some of the Gryffindors, which Harry finds unfair, when he suddenly turns on the two of them. 

“Mr. Potter,” he says with a sneer, “maybe you can answer, where exactly would one find a bezoar?” He asks. Harry is pretty certain Snape knows he won't know, but Hermione's hand shoots up, and even though he likes her, he wants to prove himself to Snape. He’s more than just “the chosen one” people keep going on about. He just doesn't know. 

He opens his mouth to say this, when Basil’s voice is suddenly whispering into his ear, “the stomach of a goat.”

Harry immediately repeats this, and Snape looks taken aback. A smirk overtakes his face, but it's distinctly less mocking than the one before. 

“Very good Mr. Potter. Perhaps you are more than just a famous name. We shall see.” And while it's not much, Harry feels a small swell of pride in him. Even if he cheated a bit. 

It's then that he realises Basil has shrunken to less than the size of his pinky, and is curled atop his ear. It's a new place, and she's never been this small before, but he likes knowing she's there. Plus, he supposes, now she can help him with classes. 

The rest of the day is a blur, and he definitely falls asleep during History of Magic, but Basil gives him a run through of the important bits, seeming to have actually enjoyed the lesson, much like Hermione. It's not until they're leaving the lesson, that he realises the three of them (and Basil) are lost. 

Somehow they've ended up on a rogue staircase, moving wildly. By the time they get off, Harry has no idea where he is, but Hermione looks concerned. 

“I think we're on the third floor.” She whispers, and Harry looks around wildly for whatever “certain death” is waiting for them. All he sees is a long hallway with a wooden door. Basil is tugging furiously on his arm, and he turns to see Mrs. Norris is in the hall behind them. 

Grabbing Hermione and Ron’s wrists, he takes off for the door. They'd been warned about Filtch and Mrs. Norris and he doesn't want to meet the man. Quickly unlatching the door, he pulls them all through. Another door is behind them by five feet, and he quickly tries the latch. It doesn't open, and he curses, before Hermione shoves her way through and says “alohamora” and the latch flies open. They pile trough and close the door tightly behind them. 

Quiet steps file towards the door, then away again. Harry lets out a sigh of relief, before he feels Basil stiffen around his arm. Turning to follow her gaze, he freezes at the sight of the three-headed dog. Hermione and Ron follow his gaze, and immediately freeze. 

“Sing to it!” Basil squeaks out, just as the thing starts to bark. Harry doesn't have time to process her words before Hermione and Ron are shoving through the door, dragging him with them. They slam the door just as the dog lunges, and they all breathe a sigh of relief. 

“Who would put that in a school!” Ron shouts, eyes wide. Harry nods along in a agreement. 

“There was a door.” Basil says, just as Hermione announces, “It was protecting something.”

He looks at them both with equal parts shock and awe. Harry's beginning to think she and Basil might be a little too similar. 

“We should go.” Harry manages to get out, before he can think more about the three-headed dog or Hermione and Basil’s similarities. By the time they're back at their dorm, both of them have spewed enough facts and observations he's forgetting which one said what. He's ignoring Basil, mostly because what they're saying is so similar it doesn't matter, although he thinks if Hermione could understand Basil they'd be pretty close. 

He confirms his idea when, before they leave for dinner, the three of them are sitting in their corner by the glass wall, and he looks up from his homework to see Basil lazily curling around Hermione's propped up ankle. She hasn't touched anyone else but him, and here she is giving Hermione casual affection. 

“Gargoyle strike, gargoyle strike.” Hermione mutters. She looks over then at him and Ron, “You two don't happen to remember when the gargoyle strike happened do you?”

“I was asleep.” Both he an Ron answer, and she rolls her eyes. He's not even sure how she's doing homework at this point. 

“1911. Tell her.” Basil says, and Harry relays the information. He looks up at their silence and startles at both Hermione and Ron’s intense gazes on him. 

“Do you speak parseltongue?” Hermione asks. 

“What's parseltongue?” 

“The language of snakes?” Ron says incredulously. 

“Oh! Yeah, Basil and I talk all the time.” At their shocked looks he continues. “I mean, I know it's rare to have my own snake, but I'm sure people talk to snakes all the time.”

“No, they don't. It's a very rare gift.” Hermione says, and Harry turns a questioning face to her. “Usually only dark wizards possess the gift.”

“You're not dark. You are kind and you are special.” Basil whispers, and Harry gives her a quiet thanks (apparently in parseltongue). 

Hermione and Ron stare at him a bit longer, before moving back to their own papers. He thinks the three of them are probably a little too good at accepting strange situations. 

~~~

Almost two months later and the three of them are sitting in the great hall before the Halloween feast. Ron is eyeing the Gryffindor table, and Harry wonders when the last time he spoke to his brothers was. He's not sure Ron misses them as much as he thought he would, which Harry thinks is making him feel guilty. But, for as much trouble as Slytherin is, they're starting to carve a place in it. 

Theo is a surprisingly good roommate, if not friend. And Blaise doesn't really talk much so he's fine to be around. The only problem is Draco, who's so spoiled rotten Harry doesn't know how to speak with him. He's not sure if Draco is oblivious, or if he's a bully because of other things in his life. Either way, the way he treats the three of them, and especially Hermione, grates on Harry's nerves. 

Like now, when Draco is muttering about mudbloods a few seats away, he and Pansy Parkinson going on about “try hards” and “lack of actual talent.” He can see Hermione stiffening across the table, until suddenly she just deflates. 

Pansy’s comment, “know it alls pretending they’re powerful, acting like they have friends when nobody really likes them.” Seems to be the tip of the iceberg, and she takes off, briskly walking out of the room. Harry gives her five minutes before they go after her. 

In the meantime, he puts his hand on Ron's arm to stop him from lifting his wand. He nods his head to the floor, where Basil is already slithering towards Pansy’s feet. Ron holds back a laugh, and they watch and Basil shrinks to rise up her robes. When she gets to Pansy’s lap, she suddenly grows about five feet, and Pansy screams like the devil, flailing off the bench. Basil quickly shrinks, and slithers back up to Harry's ear, her new favourite spot. 

Draco is openly glaring at him, and opens his mouth to say something. Before he can however, Professor Quirrell enters the great hall. 

“Troll! In the dungeon!” He says, then mutters a few words before passing out. Screams resound around the room, and he definitely holds back a laugh at the fear on Draco’s face. But then Dumbledore is shouting for quiet, and telling everyone to head back to the dorms. 

As they're walking out, Ron grabs Harry's arm suddenly. He's white as a ghost when he whispers “Hermione.”

Quickly they turn and run in the other direction, not noticing Draco Malfoy following behind them. But by the time they make it to the bathroom, her favourite hiding space, Hermione is cowering under the sinks, where a troll is brandishing his club above her. Harry immediately pulls out his wand, but he hesitates when he remembers Hermione's warning that “trolls skin is thicker than most spells.” And he's really not great at charms. 

It's Draco, pushing both of them aside, muttering “petrificus totalus” and the troll freezing before starting to fall. Ron scrambles, and grabs Hermione by the arms, pulling her back before the troll can fall on her. The four of them collapse near the door, and the troll breaks the rest of the sinks with its fall. 

It's only a few minutes later, as they're picking themselves up, and Harry's checking over the two of them, while Draco stands to the side watching, that the teachers come running in. McGonagall and Snape are first in, and the concern and fear in both their eyes shocks him, especially Snape’s. As does the cut on Snape’s leg. 

“What in the world are you four doing up here!” McGonagall raves. “You could have been seriously injured. What happened, you were supposed to go back to the dormitories.” Harry and Ron exchange a glance, but it's Hermione who opens her mouth. 

“It was my fault. I thought I could take on the troll. If they hadn't been here I'd surely be dead. Draco saved my life.” If the distaste in her voice when she says Draco is apparent, none of the teachers seem to notice, instead turning their eyes on him. He blushes under the attention, and nods when they ask if that's true. 

“You should be very, very disappointed in yourselves. Going after a troll, I swear.” She's muttering, but Snape steps forward. 

“Five points each.” He says, and Ron begins to smile, but Snape eyes him and he immediately drops it. Harry is still curious about the cut on his leg, but elects to ignore it for now. 

The four of them walk back towards the dormitory, mostly in silence. The moment they enter the secret staircase however, Hermione shoves Draco, and holds him there with her wand pointed at him. 

“Why the hell did you follow them?” She asks, and the dangerous tint to her voice reminds Harry immediately of the steely resolve she has, of why she’s in Slytherin. 

“I'm the reason you were there. If you'd died it would've been my fault.” His voice is calm, but Harry picks up the little bit of distress over the idea of Hermione dying. Or maybe it being his fault, Harry isn’t really sure. 

Hermione eases off him and nods once. She turns just as suddenly as before and walks the rest of the way to the dorm. Instead of going to their corner, she walks briskly to her room and leaves them behind. Harry eyes Ron and Draco, who are staring at different walls. He rolls his eyes, but decides going to bed is better than waiting for them to figure out their issues with each other. 

Leaving them behind, he opens the room to find Theo, but no Blaise. Theo looks up from his book (Intermediate Potions) and gives him a small wave, before returning back to the book. Harry pulls up his own copy, letting Basil expand and unravel herself on the pillow next to him. He finds his place and begins to read more about this week's assignment; hiccuping potions. 

~~~

The months pass easier after that. While he and Draco are by no means friends, he stops bullying Hermione and Ron. Ron himself starts actually improving in charms and transfiguration. Granted, nobody seems to be as good as Hermione, now or ever. But in potions, Harry is close behind her. His interest in the subject and Snape’s burgeoning approval at times push him to want to surpass her. 

By the time Christmas arrives, the three of them have agreed to stay. That is, until Hermione's parents change their mind about Paris and ask her to come home. He, Ron, Draco, and Theo are the only first year Slytherins to remain. Although Theo complains Pansy almost tried to stay, just to spend more time with Draco.

Christmas morning has them waking to a house elf on the two other boys beds. One named Dobby and one Leeda. They're dropping presents off for the other two, and bow their heads politely at Harry and Ron. The two of them find a small pile of presents at the foot of their beds. Harry's not sure who got him presents, besides the fifty cent piece from the Dursleys (which he's sure they thought was hilarious, and he immediately gives to Ron), and the flute from Hagrid. 

When Draco wakes he rolls his eyes at their small piles and grabs two from under his bed, tossing them over. Harry and Ron exchange a surprised face, and Draco scoffs. 

“They're not good presents you idiots. They're from Pansy and Daphne, and I don't want them. I figure it'll send the message if you wear them.” They open the boxes to find two watches, one black and one brown leather. Ron raises his eyebrows, but shrugs and places it on his dresser. The next present Ron grabs he groans at. 

“My mum. She thinks she can knit. Loves making these sweaters.” He sounds annoyed, but Harry knows he's secretly pleased his mom thought of him. A small smile forms on his face, until he opens the package and pulls out a red with a gold “R” on it. His face turns into a deep frown and he rolls his eyes. “Of course she sticks with the maroon. Even when I'm in a new house, I still get the worst colour.” 

Harry doesn't say it aloud, but he's definitely annoyed by Ron's response. He knows that Ron is actually grateful for the normality of the sweater, but his attitude about it gets on Harry's nerves. He'd do anything for a sweater from someone who cares. That is, until Ron slips the sweater on and he realises how awful it is. Then he can't hold in a laugh. 

“Oh shove off it. She made you one too.” Ron throws the package at Harry, and his laughter abruptly stops. Opening the package, his eyes go wide at the dark green material. Pulling it over his head he marvels at the texture, soft but stiff. Ron rolls his eyes at him again, but there's a small smile on his face. 

Draco and Theo are laughing across the room, piles of presents around Draco, and many around Theo. They get up a few minutes later and leave for breakfast. Harry grabs his last present, a lumpy paper bag. Opening it carefully, he pulls out a distinctly ugly cloak. 

“Uh, what is that?” Ron asks, disgust lining his voice. 

“I don't know. The note says “use it well.” That it was my father's…” Harry trials off, handing the note to Ron who shrugs. 

“Put it on.” Harry stand and pulls the cloak with him. There's no fastenings, so he settles for wrapping it around him like a blanket. When he looks to Ron, his mouth is slack jawed. Harry quickly looks down and realises his body has disappeared. “That's an invisibility cloak!”

The door starts to creak open, and Harry quickly yanks the cloak off, throwing it back on the bed. It lands on Basil, who lets out a huff of frustration. Theo walks in, nods, and grabs his wand from his dresser. Harry looks back to Ron, but he's staring at the cloak, which has disappeared on his bed with Basil under it. Harry picks it up and it returns to opaque colouring. He folds it carefully and puts it in the drawer with his socks. 

“We should use it to explore at night.” Ron says, and Harry quietly agrees. He takes the note back from Ron, but there's no use, seeing as he doesn't recognise the handwriting. He's about to get back on his bed when he notices a small envelope sticking out from underneath. 

Pulling it out, he opens it to reveal a single photograph. There's a small red headed girl smiling up at the camera, hogwarts books in her arms. Her eyes are bright green and Harry suddenly feels like he's falling. That's my mom, he thinks. 

Ron peeks over his shoulder, but doesn't say anything when he realises who it is. Instead he shuffles away and begins getting dressed for breakfast. Harry stares for a few more minutes, while Basil squeezes around his wrist. It's supportive and he feels grateful to have her resting there. Eventually he puts the photo down on his dresser, mind spinning with ideas of who may have given him the photo, and gets dressed himself. 

He and Ron walk to breakfast, Basil behind Harry's ear. There's only a select few students, so the tables have been pushed out and one large one sits in the middle, teachers and students intermingled. Ron finds his brothers and sits next to them, Harry on his other side. Theo and Draco are at the other end of the table, with two other first year Slytherins, Crabbe and Goyle. 

Harry is focused on his food when he hears the loud footsteps of Hagrid. He smiles up at the man, and he seats himself next to Harry, making the bench tilt just slightly. 

“Hi Hagrid!” Harry says brightly. “Thank you for the flute.” They converse about school and how the grounds are coming along. They're discussing Hagrid's animals, specifically a dog named Fluffy (which, with the description, Harry tries very hard to pretend he has no idea about the three-headed dog), when suddenly Hagrid sits up straight and starts muttering. “Hagrid?”

“Forgot about something I did. Gotta get Nicolas's letter to Dumbledore.” He mumbles, and Harry's brow furrows. 

“Nicolas?” Harry questions. 

“Nicolas Flamel of course.” Harris says with a wave of his large hand. Then he pauses. “I shouldn't have said that.” He suddenly gets up and disappears out the doors. Harry stares after him for a bit, before Fred and George rope him into a conversation. 

By the time Harry gets back to the dorm (snowball fights take time and Fred and George are ruthless) it's past dinner. He enters his dorm, only to find it still empty. Ron is staying in gryffindor with his brothers tonight, and Draco and Theo were off practicing on brooms. So, Harry pulls out the cloak. 

He's not sure who Nicolas Flamel is, Hermione would probably know, but he's not going to just sit around. The library is probably closed at night, but he figures he can sneak in with the cloak. I sound like Hermione, he thinks with a roll of his eyes. 

By the time he makes it to the library, the light is fading fast, so he uses his wand to cast a Lumos, something Hermione taught him a few weeks back. Going to the library section for new and important wizards, he searches for any Nicolas names. While there's quite a few, even a book on Nearly Headless Nick, nothing on Nicolas Flamel. Sighing, he eyes the restricted section a little harder. 

Pulling the cloak tight to make sure it fits all a round, he takes the steps into the section. Now I really feel like Hermione, this is exactly what she would use the cloak for. He moves to the corner. Things are a little less organised here, but there's still a section on people. 

Opening the first book he finds with the name Nicolas, a piercing scream sounds from the book. He drops it quickly and extinguishes his wand. 

“Who's there!” A voice, he thinks Filch, sounds. Backing away towards the library corner, he watches as Mrs. Norris comes close to him sniffing. Basil lets out a loud hiss, and the cat squirrels away. Absently Harry lifts his hand to pet her head. 

A second later Snape turns the corner. Even though he doesn't hate Harry (maybe even reluctantly likes him), Harry doesn't think getting caught by him would be good. Plus, he still hasn't figured out what the cut on his leg was from. He follows along the corner until he can turn towards the entrance again. 

Moving quickly, he goes to exit the library, when a tug on his pants alerts him that Mrs. Norris is in the hallway yowling. Basil directs him to the right, where a door stands. Looking behind him at Filtch and Snape hurrying toward the noise, he pushes through the door. Basil slides back up to his ear as soon as he's through. The door closes behind him with a small click, nothing big enough to alert the adults. 

Still, Harry backs away from the door slowly, until he reaches a set of stairs. Looking around, he eyes the mirror at the base of the lowered area. It's a grand thing, silver twirls surrounding the top. The mirror itself is spotlessly clean, and he feels his feet moving toward it before he tells them to. 

By the time he reaches it, the cloak is dropping from his fingers to the ground. His reflection is flawless, except for the hands of two people on his shoulder. A young woman, red haired green eyed stands on his left. On his right, a near reflection of him, older, messier hair and dark eyed, but so similar there's no doubt about who the two of them are. Behind his father stands a series of wizards, all similar in looks (messy, dark hair and glasses). Harry sucks in a deep breath, and takes in this image of his family. 

He could be there for hours or minutes, but eventually Basil nips at his ear to draw him out of it. He scowls at her and rubs his ear. 

“I've been trying to get your attention for five minutes.” She hisses at him, and he rolls his eyes but gets up. Grabbing the cloak, he casts one last longing gaze back at the image before donning the cloak and moving silently out of the room. 

By the time he gets back to the dorm, he's yawning and even the excitement of telling Ron fades next to the idea of sleep. When he does finally crawl into bed, Draco is the only one awake enough to notice. But he just rolls over and starts snoring almost instantly. 

The next morning, Harry's focus is shot. He should work on the extra credit assignment for potions, but finds himself gazing at the photo of his mother and letting Basil wrap herself all around him. At dinner he barely says a word to anyone, until he spots Hagrid and suddenly remembers Nicolas Flamel. 

After dinner he goes to the owlery, and writes Hermione a letter mentioning the conversation and that he thinks it's important. She'll know what to do, he thinks. 

When he gets back to the dorm, Ron is sitting on the bed staring at the letter he received at the beginning of the year. He's never shown Harry it, but he thinks it's from his old brother, Charlie. He's seen Ron tear up over it a few times, but he's not sure if they're happy or sad tears. It feels invasive to ask. 

“I have something to show you.” He says instead, and Ron looks up at him. He blinks a few times before nodding. Folding the letter he puts it back in its drawer. 

Harry drapes the cloak around both of them when they reach the library area, then pulls Ron into the hidden door. Leading him straight to the mirror he stands in front of it, and watches as his parents materialise. 

“Do you see them? They're my parents. My family.” Ron’s looking at him confuses, so he switches places with him, and Ron’s eyes go wide. “There! You see, my parents!”

“Mate, I have no idea what you're talking about. This is me, but I'm older. I've got the house cup, and the quidditch cup. I-I'm head boy of Slytherin. And my mom. She looks, proud.” The wistful tone shakes Harry out of his disappointment, and he looks at Ron a bit closer. He has unshed tears in his eyes. Harry reaches out, but it's Basil that extends to Ron's shoulder, winding up to curl around his neck. He pats her head absently, and then steps back, away from the mirror. 

“Sorry.” Harry says, and he knows it's not enough but Ron nods anyways. They gather up Harry's cloak, and he's about to throw it on when he turns and catches Dumbledore in the corner. “Why don't you and Basil head back with the cloak.” 

Ron looks at him confusedly, but eventually nods at the serious look in Harry's face and dons the cloak. The instant the door closes behind them, Harry turns to Dumbledore. 

“Sir, I'm sorry we were out of bed. I discovered this the other day and just wanted to show it to Ron, I didn't mean to be out so-” he cuts off as Dumbledore raises a hand. 

“It's quite alright Harry,” he says calmly, “I know the draw of the Mirror of Errisand is a strong one. I cannot fault you.”

“Mirror of Errisand, sir?” Harry questions. 

“Yes. Quite a special mirror. The image shows what the user wants most in the world. It has been known to drive many a few wizards quite insane.” Harry's eyes widen at that, but he thinks he gets it. Basil had to bite him for him to snap out of it. 

“Sir, my parents…” he trails off. 

“Ah, yes. A full family, parents who love you and care for you. Unfortunately Harry the Mirror cannot bring them back, only show you what you wish.”  
Dumbledore nods to himself, looking in the mirror now, a deep sadness seems to take over him. “In any case, the mirror will be removed to a safer location tomorrow. I'll let you and Mr. Weasley off tonight, but if I catch you in this room again I will not be so lenient.” 

Harry nods and thanks him, and Dumbledore exits the room. He then sits down in front of the mirror, and lets the sensation overtake him again. 

The next day, he and Ron seem to make a silent agreement not to discuss the mirror. Instead, they actually go to the library to attempt research on Nicolas Flamel. They find nothing beyond a single mention in a book about wizards with great power, which obviously doesn't narrow it down much. 

The rest of their break alternates between the library (where Harry finds a book on improving charms that looks very helpful) and snowball fights with Fred and George. The night before the other students return, Ron, Harry, and Basil are curled up on a sofa by the fire. He's almost halfway through the charms book (Hermione was very right about pronunciation) and Ron is looking through a quidditch article. It's as peaceful as Harry's felt in years.

Of course, that's when Draco comes running into the dorm, face pale and a little green. His panicked eyes find theirs and he runs straight for them. Settling himself between the two he sends Harry a pleading look. 

“Please pretend I've been with here you for hours. Please.” He sounds desperate and Harry just nods numbly. Basil takes the initiative, and slides the upper half of her from Harry's shoulders to Draco's. Expanding a bit, she manages to curl both ends around the two of them. Draco leans his head toward Harry’s book. 

Less than a minute later, the terrifying form of the Bloody Baron comes sliding through the wall. He zeroes in on Draco, who pretends not to notice. He floats closer to them, and Draco looks up, all signs of panic gone, confusion in its place. The Baron scoffs and turns away, back through the wall. 

Draco relaxes slowly, and Basil leaves their shoulders to curl in Draco's lap. Absently he pats her head, and Harry glances curiously at the motion, and at the comfort from the snake. Draco leans his head on the back of the couch with a sigh. 

“Sorry. Peeves and I pulled a prank but he forgot to mention it would piss him off. He terrifies me.” Draco says, then stiffens, as if he's realised what he's said could be a weakness. Harry and Ron glance at each other, then both shrug and turn back to their reading. Harry can see Draco glance at them both, but he turns to Ron and asks which article he's reading. They start discussing quidditch, and Harry gets lost in his reading again. 

By the end of the night, Draco and Ron have dissected the article and decided Draco will take Ron to the next Chudley Cannons game. Which Harry finds a little weird, but they're inviting him and he likes quidditch, wants to try out for the team next year, so he just goes with it. 

In the morning, he wakes up to yelling from the door. Groggily, Harry grabs his glasses and squints around. Draco and Hermione are at the door, Hermione glaring (shocker) and Draco uncomfortably crossing his arms. They're whisper yelling but Harry can't pick out the words. He sits up, and Hermione's eyes snap to him. Haughtily, she shoves Draco out of the way, and sits on the end of Harry's bed. 

Basil slithers across Harry from the pillow, and heads straight for Hermione. She slides over her wrist, and begins circling it slowly, then curls in Hermione's lap. 

“She missed you.” Harry says gruffly, then lies back down. Hermione lies down along the bottom of the bed, Basil moving up to her chest. Harry quickly begins falling back asleep, and just catches Draco's stare at Hermione. Not of disgust, but just blank. He doesn't have time to think about it before he's out again. 

His shoulder is being roughly shaken, and he flinches away from the touch, moving to the other side of the bed. The hands pull back, but he can almost feel the sigh of frustration Hermione lets out. 

“Harry I need to talk to you about Nicolas Flamel.” She says, and Harry sits up immediately. His glasses are crooked, and he fixes them quickly before eyeing her raptly. She gives a small smile, but she has that steely look in her eye. 

“What? What is it?” Harry asks immediately, and she smiles. 

“I know who Nicolas Flamel is.” She says, and Harry's eyes go wide. He motions for her to continue, and she lets out a soft laugh. “Honestly it's just chance. I stole some books from the library before I left. Really good ones, all about potions and alchemy. I learned a lot I definitely think I'll be Snape's best student.”

Harry clears his throat, and she stops and smiles at him sheepishly. “You stole books from the library?” He asks, and she blushes dark pink. 

“Well, not stole. Borrowed. Against the rules.” She blushes harder at that. “Anyways, that's not the point. I found him! Here look.” She drags a heavy book out from her bag, Ancient Studies of Alchemy the title reads, and Harry rolls his eyes at Hermione's idea of good reading. But then she opens to a page and his eyes snag on the passage. A description of Nicolas Flamel’s interests are there, but so is the mention of his “six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday”. 

“Philosopher’s stone?” Harry looks at Hermione, but she looks just as confused as he feels. Ron comes in then, and they show him the passage. He guesses that's what keeps him living so long, but it still doesn't explain much. 

Then, Hermione asks, “Didn’t Hagrid take something out of Gringotts the day you went in?” 

“Yeah. It was a small package. Why?” Harry asks, unsure what this has to do with anything. 

“Harry,” she says a little exasperatedly, “Hagrid. Fluffy is Hagrid’s, Hagrid had a letter from Nicolas Flamel. What if, that package was the stone!”

He blinks at her for minute, before his mind starts connecting the dots. It fits perfectly. So, he says “We need to talk to Hagrid. Tonight.”

“Well, I'm clearly not the best at following rules, but we can't exactly walk around at night without getting in trouble.” She says

“Oh, Harry has an invisibility cloak now. We forgot to tell you.” Ron pipes up, and Hermione looks between the two of them, before bursting out laughing. 

“Of course you do.” She says. “So tonight then, we’ll go down there and confront him?” The two boys nod, and Hermione stands. “I need to unpack. I came straight here.” She says, and quickly leaves the room. 

\---

It's nearly nine o'clock when Hermione finally meets the two of them in the common room. They all stand to go, when Draco pops into the room. 

“Where are you three going?” He asks suspiciously. 

“On a walk.” Hermione says, the usual kindness in her voice gone. Draco seems to flinch a bit at that, but then he just shrugs and lets it go. They turn as one and continue walking through the door. 

Before exiting the hidden staircase, they dawn the cloak. Hermione looks slightly flabbergasted by the whole thing, and Harry definitely thinks she's going go try to make her own after this. They shuffle quickly to Hagrid’s hut, and Ron is the one to knock loudly on the door. 

The whining of a dog sounds, before the door flies open and Hagrid is looking around. 

“It's us.” Harry whispers, and Hagrid's jumps about two feet. “Let us in.” He says, but Hagrid shakes his head. 

“You can't be out this late!” He exclaims. “Go back to yer beds!”

“We know about the philosopher’s stone.” Hermione says, and Hagrid's face pales. He opens the door, and they file in, removing the cloak once the door closes behind them. 

The hut is small, but still big enough for Hagrid and his dog (Fangs, Harry discovers later). There's a pot over the fire, and something inside it is rattling. Hagrid's rushes over, and removes the pot quickly. Looking inside, a large egg is cracking apart. 

“Is that… a dragon egg?” Hermione asks, pale but more curious than he's ever heard her. Hagrid doesn't say anything, but there's a guilty look on his face. “Hagrid, it’s illegal to have pet dragons!” 

“I know, but I always wanted one! And I got it for free, eh? How could I say no?” He rushes through his words, explaining a stranger with cards and questions, and by the time he finishes the egg is being broken by little arms and legs. 

The baby dragon pops out of the egg, onto the table. Hagrid names it Norbert and keeps calling himself mummy, and Harry is trying really hard not to laugh. Ron is staring in fear, but Hermione is rapt. She’s got the look in her eyes from potions class, when the words “deadly” or “incapacitate” are thrown around. It's a scary look to anyone else, but Harry finds he understands it. 

Less than ten minutes later, there's a knock on the door, then Draco is pushing his way through. They all stare at him in shock, but he's breathing hard. 

“Dumbledore. Coming. Hide.” He gasps out, and the three of them pull him into a corner, where they drape the cloak over them. Hagrid is still holding Norbert, and tries hiding him in a teakettle. By the time Dumbledore knocks, Draco's breathing has slowed. Harry notices he's holding Hermione's wrist, who hasn't seemed to notice yet. 

Dumbledore enters and asks if there's been a new letter. Hagrid nods hurriedly and hands him the letter. Dumbledore turns towards their corner, and Harry swears they make eye contact. He leaves briskly, and they all breathe a sigh of relief when the door closes. 

Ron is the first to stand and walks up to Hagrid. 

“You can't keep it.” He says, and Hagrid looks so crushed. But Harry thinks he also agrees. “I'm sending a letter to Charlie. Norbert will go to Romania. Where is your owl.”

Harry's never heard Ron's voice so hard before, almost resigned. He thinks about the letter Ron’s always reading, and thinks it probably isn't a good letter after all. Hagrid nods towards a window, and Ron reaches through it for the owl. He writes a quick note and sends it on it's way. 

“When you get a response, tell me.” Is all Ron says. Harry's not sure when they all moved, but they're surrounding him now, and he looks relieved. 

“Hagrid,” Hermione starts, “you need to tell us about the Philosopher’s Stone.” 

“No!” He immediately says. “That's not something you're supposed to know about. I can't tell you about it or Fluffy or anything.”

“Fluffy? You mean that mutant dog?” Ron asks incredulously. 

“He's not a mutant! He's a good Dog, he’s just cranky without his music!” Hagrid's eyes go wide. “I shouldn't have said that.”

“Hagrid, on Halloween Snape had a deep cut on his leg. Was he trying to steal the stone?” Harry asks, uncomfortable about the idea of Snape trying to steal it, but not sure what else would have caused it. 

“What? Of course not! Snape is one of the teachers trying to protect the stone!” Hagrid's looking at them like they're crazy, but Hermione catches what he said. 

“Protect it from who?” She asks, and Harry is so grateful she's there to ask what are probably the important questions. 

Hagrid's face goes pale, the same way the other kids do when Harry says “Voldemort” instead of “you-know-who” and Harry feels dizzy from the sudden understanding. He steps back, and all the eyes are suddenly on him, his scar. Basil is still in his pocket, and he feels like his next breath is the hardest they’re both ever taken. 

Slowly, Ron reaches for the cloak. Hermione grabs his arm, and Draco twists the door handle. Hagrid is still pale, looking at them guiltily, but Harry can't stand that. He looks away and grabs the cloak. The step up to draco, and it's a stretch around the four of them but they make it work. 

By the time they're back in the common room, Hermione's eyes have turned steely, and Draco is staring at her with that blank look again. Ron is mumbling under his breath. Basil slowly slithers up to his shoulders, and rests herself there. They follow him to their glass corner, and he sits slowly. 

“We need to steal the stone first.” Are the first words spoken, but they come from Draco. All three heads turn to face him, and he flushes. “Look, we need to stop him. I don't want the dark lord back.”

He and Hermione both flinch at his last words, but he doesn't apologise, just looks down. Basil slithers off him to circle Draco's ankle three times, before coming back to Harry's lap. 

“You're right.” Hermione says, and both Harry and Ron raise their eyebrows. Not that they disagree, but that she's agree with Draco. “Don't looks surprised. He can be right for once in his life.” 

Unintentionally the comment lightens the mood, like a little bit of the tension is leaking out. 

But then Ron aks, “When?” And the tension rises twice as high as before when Harry's responds with, “Tonight.”

Hermione nods, but Draco and Ron look uncertain. It's Ron who responds, “we haven't slept, and how are we supposed to stop this? Shouldn't we tell Dumbledore?”

“No.” Hermione says, and they all turn to look at her. “At least, not until we're already going. They might try to stop us.” 

It makes some sense, mostly because Harry doesn't always trust older men, and isn't sure if Dumbledore is more like Uncle Vernon or Hagrid. 

“We send a letter right before we go in.” Draco says, and Harry wonders when he became part of this, why it feels so normal. “To Dumbledore and McGonagall. We don't know if it's Snape, so we can't tell him. But Dumbledore is on his way to the Ministry. I'll explain how I know later.” They agree, if a bit suspiciously, and Harry's the one to go grab Hedwig. 

By the time he's back, Hermione has already written three different versions of the letter. They pick the most concise one, and Harry perches Hedwig on his shoulder, while Basil curls behind his ear. He's not sure if the two like each other or not, but he's not willing to test it. 

They don the cloak by twos, Harry and Ron, then Harry and Draco, lastly Harry, Hermione, and Hedwig. When they've all reached the third floor, Harry hands the letters to Hedwig and tells her to find Dumbledore first. She nods, and he hopes that means she understands. 

When she takes off, they turn to the first door. The short hallway beyond is filled with the faint sounds of music, and Harry's shoulders tense. 

“Is that… music?” Hermione asks nervously. They all nod, and she quickly unlocks the door. 

Inside, the previously angry and barking dog is sound asleep. The trap door accessible before one of its large paws. The harp in the corner is playing a soft melody, and Harry tries not to let himself think about what that means. Instead, he drags the three of them behind him, to the trap door. 

Ron opens it, and they all cringe at the creaking wood, but the dog doesn't stir. Staring down into the darkness, Harry feels his nerves begin to take root, and he starts breathing a little heavier. Draco is the first to look up, and when he does Harry realises the music is slowing down. The glance at each other nervously, before Draco shrugs and drops into the hole. Hermione gasps quietly, and Harry's eyes widen in shock. 

A soft “I'm fine” comes, just as the music finally stops. Looking at the other two, Harry looks up to see the dog stirring. He jumps into the hole without allowing himself to think about it. Ron and Hermione follow quickly behind, and he hears the door close above them loudly. 

They've landed in a dark green mass of vines, and Draco is already being wrapped in them. Harry feels them begin to slither around him, and starts thrashing trying to dislodge them. Basil's whispered “Sit still. Do not move.” Freezes him in place, and he feels the vines loosen. 

“This is Devil’s Snare,” Hermione says, “just relax and we’ll be fine. She's already sinking through the vines, when suddenly she disappeares from view. Ron screams, but Harry follows behind her not long after. He looks over to see Draco already standing next to Hermione. “He's not calming down.” She says as Ron screams some more. 

“Sunlight.” Draco says suddenly, and Hermione looks at him in surprise, before turning back and yelling “lumos solem!”

A beam of sunlight shoots from her wand, and Ron is suddenly crashing through to the ground. He blinks up at them groggily before standing and muttering a quiet, embarrassed thanks. 

They turn as one to the door behind them the sound of wind is coming through it, and Harry already begins steeling himself for whatever it is. 

However, when they open the door, there's no wind, just a bunch of wings flying around, and a closed door across the room. The rush over, and Ron tries the alohomora to no luck. By the time Hermione figures out the wings are keys, Draco is already reaching for the broom. He’s on it before anyone can stop him, and suddenly the keys are chasing after him, except for the one with the broken wing. Harry watches as he clumsily chases after it and thinks “not seeker, but made for quidditch.” When he throws the key at Harry he's ready, and throws open the door as fast as he can. They slip inside and Draco zooms in a second later. Hermione slams the door, and the sound of the keys nailing into it makes Harry jump back. 

Last to turn, Harry is late on his gasp at the giant chess board. Ron is eyeing it like a man starved, and Draco and Hermione look terrified. Harry steps next to Ron, and breathes out slowly. He looks to Ron, who just nods slightly. They step onto the chess board. 

He and Hermione both attempt to walk across to the door, but the swords that fly out to block them send them reeling back. Ron is already looking at the board, calculating and analysing. By the time he looks back at the three of them, his eyes have taken on a determined gleam. 

“We have to play.” He says. They move on to the empty spots of the board; Ron as the missing knight, Hermione as Queen, Harry and Draco as Bishops, 

The game is brutal, and the fear on Hermione’s face reminds him constantly of the fact that they could die. He's not sure why they thought they could do this, they're only 11 and 12 year olds! But Draco and Ron look determined and Harry is impressed by the sudden bravery in both. 

By the time he realises what Ron's about to do, he's almost forgotten they're the ones on the board. Ron's strategy has been brilliant, years of trying to beat his older brothers helping him keep the four from getting hurt. Until now. 

“No you can't!” Hermione is screaming, and Harry is agreeing. Draco's eyes are blown wide, not in fear, but admiration. Harry imagines Draco's friends have never been this dedicated before. And Ron is this dedicated. He's moving before they can find another way, and he's suddenly flying through the air. Hermione about to move, but Draco screams at her to stop. 

Harry moves to checkmate. The queen's sword falls. He waits five seconds before running for Ron. Hermione is already there, and Draco not far behind. They kneel around Ron, knocked out, bleeding a little bit. Hermione looks terrified and Harry doesn't think she should continue with them. 

“Hermione, take Ron back. Go to the infirmary and send another owl to Dumbledore.” She nods solemnly, but looks at the door in tredaptation.

“I'll stay with Harry.” Draco says, and their eyes flick to him in surprise. He rolls his eyes at Hermione and says, “I'm just as smart as you. You're only one rank ahead of me in potions and charms.” 

Both he and Hermione flush a bit, but she nods and he turns to Harry. Harry nods at Hermione and they run for the door. 

A wooden table stands in the centre of the small room. The instant they step up to it, flames erupt around the room, blocking both exits. The flames ahead of the two are black, and the ones blocking the door they just came through are purple. Harry walks quickly up to the table, where he reads:

“Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,  
Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,  
One among us seven will let you move ahead,  
Another will transport the drinker back instead,  
Two among our number hold only nettle wine,  
Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line.  
Choose, unless you wish to stay here for evermore,  
To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:  
First, however slyly the poison tries to hide  
You will always find some on nettle wine’s left side;  
Second, different are those who stand at either end,  
But if you would move onwards, neither is your friend;  
Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,  
Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;  
Fourth, the second left and the second on the right  
Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.”

He and Draco glance at each other, before Draco steps an inch closer to the table. Harry can see the look enter his eye, similar to the one Hermione gets sometimes. Harry likes potions, but he's nothing like Draco and Hermione, who's ambitions are giving them top marks, drives them both to read everything they can in their extra time. 

“Drink this one.” Draco says after a minute, handing Harry the dwarf potion. He grabs the rightmost one. “This one will send me back to the others.”

He's looking at Harry, full of nerves, and it takes Harry a minute to realise what he means. 

“I have to go on alone?” Draco nods at him, and he swallows thickly. “Okay. On three. One, two, three.” They swallow together, and Harry nods at him one more time, before rounding the table towards the black flames. He cringes before walking through, but all he feels is a slight tickling sensation, and then he's through the door. 

The room in front of him is similar to the one he first saw the Mirror or Errisand in. So, he's less surprised than he should be at the sight of the mirror in front of him. More surprising, is Professor Quirrell, turban in place, eyeing the mirror. 

“You!” Harry shouts, “It can't be you! What about Snape?”

“Ah yes.” Quirrell says, his voice stronger than Harry has ever heard it. “Snape, what a perfect cover. If it weren't for him I would have had the stone months ago. Besides, who would suspect p-poor st-stuttering Professor Qu-Quirrell.” He rolls his eyes and Harry's stomach gives a nauseous swoop at this new information. 

“You let the troll in!” Harry exclaims. 

“Very good Potter, yes. Snape, unfortunately, wasn't fooled. He hasn't trusted me since. He's been watching me.” He turns back to the mirror. “He doesn't understand, he doesn't know. If he knew, he wouldn't have stopped me.”

When the back of Quirrell’s turban faces Harry, his scar begins to burn, as if someone had taken a lighter and set it there. 

“Now, what does this mirror do? I can see myself holding the stone, but how do I get it.” He's angry, and reaching towards the mirror. 

A voice, seeming to come from the walls themselves, crawls over Harry. It whispers “use the boy” and suddenly Quirrell is dragging Harry in front of the mirror. 

Harry’s expecting to see his parents again, but instead it is just himself. Except, not himself, because he's holding the stone, and putting it in his pocket. Harry almost gasps when he feels the weight of the stone in his pocket, but stops the sound before it materialises.

“What? What is it? What do you see?” Quirrell demands, and Harry jumps. 

“I-I'm shaking Dumbledore’s hand,” he starts, remembering Ron's description, “I've just one the house cup.”

“He lies.” Comes the whisper again. 

“Tell the truth!” Quirrell shouts, and Harry takes a step back. 

“Let me see him.” The whisper comes, and Quirrell tries to argue, but he looks so afraid and gives in so easily. He begins unwrapping the turban, and Harry looks nervously around for another exit. When he looks back, Quirrell is pulling the last of the turban away. The face on the back of his head is nothing like what Harry sees in his nightmares, and it makes him all the more terrifying. 

“Harry Potter, we meet again.” The face whispers, echoing around the room. 

“Voldemort.” Harry manages to breath out, and a cruel smirk overtakes the face. 

“Yes. You see what I've become. You see what I must do to survive? Live off another, a mere parasite?” His voice continues to echo, but it's beginning to sound weaker than before. Harry feels Basil sliding out from his pocket and up behind his ear. “But I can live again. I can have my own body. I just need one thing. Which conveniently enough, lies in your pocket.”

“Run.” Basil whispers into Harry's ear, and he takes off. 

“Stop him!” Voldemort's voice echoes, and he can almost feel Quirrell casting the spell. Flames erupt around him, and Harry pulls up short. “Don't be a fool.” Voldemort says. “I can help you. Don't you want to see your parents?”

Harry stills, and turns around. Looking at Quirrell/Voldemort, their arm is pointed towards the mirror. Looking to it, Harry sees the faces of his parents, smiling at him. 

“I can bring them back.” Voldemort's voice surrounds Harry, but he can barely focus on anything but his parents. “All I ask l, is for something in return.”

Before he really recognises the action, Harry is pulling the stone out of his pocket. He looks down at it, then back up at his parents. 

“That's it Harry. There is no good or evil. There is only power.” The voice whispers, and Harry suddenly realises what he's doing, what his parents would think. 

“Never!” He shouts, and the rage that overtakes Voldemort's face nearly stops his heart. 

“Kill him!” He shouts, and Quirrell seems to jump at him. He tackles Harry to the ground, forcing a hand around his throat. The stone flies out of Harry's hand, just out of reach. Basil slithers from behind Harry's ear, and bites Quirrell’s hand. He curses, but doesn't move his hand, until it starts to swell. Whatever venom Basil holds begins taking place, and Harry quickly grabs at Quirrell's hand to pull it off. 

The instant Harry touches the hand, it seems to dry up and crumble. The look of horror on Quirrell's face spurs Harry on, and he quickly reaches out to touch it. By the time he gets his second hand on it, his whole body is crumbling. Harry lets go and steps back just as he dissolves into dust. Harry looks down quickly and grabs the stone.  
By the time he stands up, the ghostly figure is already zooming towards him. Harry screams as what feels like buckets of ice and fire go through him, and he falls heavily to the ground. 

\---

Harry wakes slowly, as if pulling himself through a massive pile of blankets. Grabbing his glasses, Harry looks around, sees the infirmary, and Ron a few beds over. The door creaks open, and Harry looks at the tall form of Dumbledore walking through. 

“Good afternoon Harry.” He says, then gestures to the pile of sweets at the end of the bed. “Tokens from your admirers.”

“Admirers?” Harry asks confusedly. 

“Ah yes. What happened to you on the third floor is a mystery. So naturally, everybody knows.” Dumbledore is smiling, but the reminder of the night before shocks Harry. 

“Is Ron alright? What about Hermione? And Draco?” He's panicking, but Dumbledore raises a hand so he silences himself. 

“They're all fine. Ron will be bruised but fine.” The relief that overcomes Harry is overwhelming, but then he remembers something else. 

“What about the stone? What happened to it?”  
Dumbledore raises his hand again, and Harry is surprised by the bit of irritation he feels at the motion. 

“Relax, dear boy, the stone has been destroyed. Nicolas and I have agreed it was for the best.”

“But,” Harry starts, “then Flamel…” he trails off and Dumbledore nods. 

“Yes, but he is ready I believe. He has lived for very long.” And Harry nods at that. Dumbledore is sitting on the edge of his bed now, and staring pensively at the wall. 

“Sir, how did I get the stone in the first place?” It's something that bothered Harry from the beginning. 

“Ah, you see, only the person who wanted to find the stone, find it but not use it, would be able to get it. One of my more brilliant ideas I do believe.” He says, and Harry smiles just a bit. 

“Does that mean, that with the stone gone, Voldemort can never come back?” Harry asks hopefully, but a deep sadness overtakes Dumbledore’s eyes, and he knows the answer before it's said. 

“I'm afraid, there are other ways in which he can return.” The man looks haunted, and Harry suddenly feels as though he only knows half the story. “Harry,” he continues after a pause, “do you know why Professor Quirrell couldn't touch you?” Harry shakes his head. “It's because of your mother. She sacrificed herself for you, and that kind of act leaves a mark.”

Harry touches his scar, but Dumbledore shakes his head. “Oh no, this kind of mark cannot be seen. It lives in your very skin.”

“What is it?” Harry asks, and Dumbledore looks at him kindly. 

“Love, Harry. Love.” Harry blinks at Dumbledore blankly, trying to process this idea. He barely notices as he grabs a box of Bertie Botts and leaves. He’s not sure he really understands what Dumbledore meant, how can love protect him? He’s also not sure that it did protect him, because even though Quirrell/Voldemort was trying to kill him, Harry’s pretty sure he killed first. Which bothers him less than it should. Harry’s pretty sure you’re supposed to feel guilt after killing someone, but all he feels is relief. 

\---

By the time Madam Pomfrey releases him from the infirmary, he’s practically itching to talk to Hermione and Ron, even Draco. Madam Pomfrey kept him for a week, and by the time he's convinced her to let him go the end-of-year feast has already begun. He’s walking through the halls, when he spots Hermione, Ron, and Draco at the top of the staircase. They look down just as he enters, and Harry lets out a wide smile, his first in weeks. 

“Alright there, Ron?” Harry asks.

“Alright. You?” Harry shrugs in response, and turns to Hermione. 

“Alright Hermione?” He asks, and she beams.

“Never better.” 

“Yes, yes, we’re all fine. Can we eat now?” Draco cuts in impatiently, and the other three all roll their eyes at him. Harry runs up the staircase (Madame Pomfrey would throw a fit) and catches up with them just as they enter. 

The hall goes silent as they enter, but just as quickly whispers start up all around them. Harry blushes, and Hermione and Ron stare at the floor. Draco just rolls his eyes before marching towards their table. They follow him and sit facing the rest of the room. All eyes are on them, but Harry pretends to ignore them in favour of the food. After about five minutes, the sensation of being watched lifts a bit, and the four of them all start breathing easier. Or at least three of them, Draco didn’t look all that affected in the first place. 

McGonagall’s tap-tap of her glass causes the hall to go quiet. Everyone stares as Dumbledore stands from his seat. 

“Another year, come and gone. And, as I understand it, the awarding of the House Cup is in order. In fourth place, Hufflepuff, with 352 points.” There's some sad looks, but the Hufflepuffs mostly look fine, and polite clapping is heard. “In third place, Ravenclaw, with 426 points. Second, Gryffindor, with 462 points. And finally, the winners of our house cup, Slytherin with 472 points.” As Dumbledore finishes speaking, the banners fall from the ceiling in green and black, and their table erupts in wild cheers. Harry and Ron are smiling, Hermione is rolling her eyes, but with a small smile, and Draco is cheering loudly across the table at Blaise and Theo. 

Harry looks around and grins. Even though he doesn't like many of his housemates, they are his and they have just won. It's a good feeling. And if Ron looks smugly at the Gryffindor table, and the twins stick their tongues out, well, Harry's just glad it looks to be friendly. 

\---

Harry’s wrapped up talking to Draco as they load their trunks when he hears, “Harry!” He turns to see Hagrid waving him over. He’s smiling wide and Harry smiles at him as well. Hagrid catches up to him and engulfs him in a large hug. “didn't think you could leave without saying goodbye did ya?” 

“Of course not.” Harry says, smiling widely. 

“Here,” Hagrid reaches into his coat, and pulls out a photo album, “thought you might like this.”

Harry opens it slowly, to see a picture of his parents, with him as a baby being held between them. He swallows thickly, but keeps the smile plastered on for Hagrid’s sake. He steps up and hugs Hagrid around the middle (well, he tries to).

“Harry! The train is leaving!” Draco's voice calls, and he turns to see the three of them waving from a window. He turns to wave at Hagrid, and rushes on to the train. 

When he makes it the compartment, Hermione is the first to speak. “Feels strange to be going home, doesn't it?” She asks, and Harry catches Draco's small look of panic, before his calm facade is back. 

“I'm not going home. Not really.” He says, and looks at Draco. He sends a small nod at Harry, and Harry suddenly realises Draco might understand him better than he thought, and he might even understand Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I actually wrote this like four years ago and found it in an old google doc. I wrote 1-4 already, so maybe I’ll try to finish them I’m enjoying it rn. I also apologise for any spelling errors, I try my best but dyslexia is a b!tch


	2. The Chamber of Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I split this one up into two chapters, to make it easier to read because it's long, and I'll probably start doing that for all of them

Harry's really messed up this time. Or rather, Dobby messed up, and Basil seems to be hyperventilating while Hedwig violently rattles her cage. 

When Dobby had shown up in Harry's bedroom, Harry'd been hoping Draco was sending him a letter. But after Dobby’s behaviour, it's clear Draco couldn't have sent him. There's no way Draco would have sent a house elf to do this to him. 

The bars on his window cast odd shadows over the room, and he can hear every sound now that the window doesn't even close all the way. 

Which is how he picks out the sound of the car, before the headlights light up the room. Jumping up, he looks out to a flying blue car. It pulls parallel to the window, and Harry can see Ron and the twins. 

Ron shushes his brothers quickly. And they get to work on pulling the bars and window off. Harry throws his trunk into the car boot wildly, then hands Hedwig off to Ron. By the time Basil is crawling up Harry's leg, he's leaning for Ron and the Dursleys are running through the door. Harry's almost out, when Uncle Vernon’s grabbing his ankle. He sways wildly before Ron catches him under the arms. 

Uncle Vernon is tugging like his life depends on it, when Basil suddenly expands and hisses at him. He lets go and falls down to the bushes below, while Harry laughs at him. Ron pulls him in, and Basil climbs to his shoulder where she nuzzles into his neck. He's still laughing as Ron wishes him a Happy Birthday. 

\---

“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN.” Comes Mrs. Weasley’s voice, and Harry jumps a bit at the anger there. She turns to Harry and smiles tightly, “Harry, how wonderful to see you.” Then she's back to yelling, “BEDS EMPTY NO NOTE, CAR GONE! You could have died! You could have been seen! This is that Slytherin influence!” Ron crosses his arms and she turns to Harry again. “Of course, I don't blame you personally, Harry, dear.”

“They were starving him mum. There were bars on his window!” Ron exclaims, but Mrs. Weasley still looks angry. 

“Well, you'd best hope I don't put bars on your window, Ronald Weasley.” The twins are looking at Ron wide eyed and Ron looks terrified. Mrs. Weasely turns to him again, “Come on Harry, time for a spot of breakfast.”

\---

“Now, speak very, very clearly.” Mrs Wesley says, eyeing his slytherin robes and giving him a look like she’s expecting to be disappointed. Harry thinks her grudge against Slytherin as a whole might be a little irrational.

Slowly he says “Diagon Alley” and throws the floo powder. He feels a twisting sensation and sparks of green around him, before his body seems to right himself. He’s falling then, at a diagonal through another fireplace. Standing, he quickly looks around, and spots Ron a few feet away, waving him over. He hurries next to him, and watches as the rest of the Weasleys pop out of the fireplace (much more gracefully than Harry himself did). 

By the time Percy comes through, there's a crowd of people filing out of the Flourish and Blotts. He turns in time to see Hermione rushing out towards them. She smiles wide, hugging him first, then Ron. She drags them behind her, prattling on about “Lockhart” and “amazing books” and “you have to read them.” 

They follow her into the book store, the rest of the Weasley family trailing after them. There's a line stretching all along the wall, and Hermione pulls them further up it, where they meet her parents. 

They seem nice, but once Mr. Weasley finds them, they're bombarded with questions like “how do telephones work” and “what is the point of a dishwasher?” So Harry really only says hello and goodbye. 

By the time Gilderoy Lockhart has entered the room, Hermione and Mrs. Weasley are buzzing with interest. When he enters (with a frantic flourish), both of them seem to swoon a bit. That is, until he calls Harry up and says “together we’ll make the front page.” That's when a little bit of that steely look enters Hermione's face. When he gifts the entire collected works, he even catches her roll her eyes a bit. When Mrs. Weasley (who still looks starry-eyed) ushers them out of line, she doesn't even argue. 

They're almost out when the “Potter” sounds from the bookcase. Harry looks up to see Draco leaning against the banister smirking at them. Hermione rolls her eyes again, and Ron gives him a small wave. Harry's the one to smile, and eventually Draco cracks and smiles back. 

He walks down the stairs and they walk out of the store together. Hermione is rambling on a potions book she found, and Draco is listening raptly, when suddenly a hand appears on the blondes shoulder. No, not a hand Harry realises, but a hook in the shape of a snake. 

Harry looks up to see a blonde man, somewhat like an older version of Draco staring down at them. He sneers a bit at Hermione, but his face is blank towards Harry and Ron. 

“Draco, how rude of you not to introduce me to your friends.” He says, and Harry notes the way Draco's shoulders stiffen at the words. He turns slowly with a fake smile plastered on his face. 

“Father, this is Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter. Harry and Ron are my roommates.” Draco says tersely. 

“Ah yes, the famous Harry Potter. I did not realise you and my son were quite so… close.” He says, and the look of panic that enters Draco's eyes nearly sets Harry off. 

Instead, he breathes deep and says, “We’re not sir. We were actually just asking Draco if he'd gotten his new books, and happened to walk out of the store at the same time. I wouldn't call us friends by any sense.” He throws in a mild sneer at Draco for effect, and if Draco's returning sneer is more full of relief than hate, his father doesn't seem to notice. 

“Ah, I see. Inner house rivalries. That's good Draco, must keep that spirit up.” He says and smiles crookedly at them. He turns to Hermione, “I hear you're a brilliant student. I do hope you’re finding Slytherin to be… welcoming.” He says and Hermione's about to retort when Draco interrupts. 

“Father, you promised we'd look at the new brooms.” He says, and the tone he's adopted is one Harry only remembers from the beginning of last year. Before their odd friendship formed. 

“Yes, quite right Draco. Best leave the Weasley's to their... thrifting.” He gives a pointed look behind Harry, and he turns to see the rest of the Weasley’s a few steps behind him. When Harry turns back, they're already walking away, and Draco doesn't glance at them. 

“He's terrifying.” Ron says with a shudder. 

“He's a pompous ass who doesn't know how to be a good father.” Hermione retorts with, and Harry looks at her in surprise. She rolls her eyes but responds, “we wrote each other. His father thinks all my letters were from some pureblood in France Draco met on their vacation.” 

Harry eyes her a bit longer, but doesn’t respond. He's reminded of Dobby stealing his letters, and suddenly wants to know what they've all written him. 

“Luscious Malfoy.” Fred and George say in disgust. “Can't believe he touched your books Ginny.”

Harry turns to her with a questioning look, but it's Fred who answers. 

“The git was bickering with dad. Picked up Ginny’s books as an “example” of our poor bloodline.”

“As if our bloodline is poor because we like muggle borns.” George finishes, and both twins scoff. Harry eyes Ginny, but she's looking down at her books avoiding everyone else. 

\---

They're late for the train, that much is obvious. It's Basil, whispering in Harry's ear to “go go go” when he sees Draco and his Father. His father is looking at his watch, and Draco is looking to the ground. His father says something, and Draco nods before his father turns and leaves him. Draco watches for a minute to make sure his father is gone, before turning towards them. 

“I'm sorry.” He says, but Harry doesn't need the explanation, he knows. 

“I understand.” Harry says, and Draco looks at him gratefully. The three of them turn towards the platform entrance, and Harry realises everyone else is gone. They quickly trot towards the gate, and take off all together. 

It's a few seconds before Harry realises he's on the ground and they crashed into the barrier. He looks wildly to Ron and Draco, before patting his ear to make sure Basil is okay. The ticket master is yelling at them, and Harry mutters something about losing control, but he's not really focused on that. He's focused on the clock chiming, announcing that the train has left already. 

Ron's the one to wonder if their parents can't get back through, and Harry's looking around wildly for any wizard robes that can help. Draco is the only calm one, he's pulling Hedwig out of her cage and handing her a piece of parchment. 

“What are you doing?” Harry asks, confused as to why Draco is using his owl. 

“I'm owning Dumbledore. Something like this happened to Theo’s dad once, when my father was in school. They'll send someone to floo us to the school.” He says and Harry blinks at him. 

“That's really smart.”

“Yes, well I am tied with Hermione for marks. She did make it through right?” He asks, and Ron affirms that she was one of the first through the barrier. “Right, well we have to go back to Diagon Alley.”

Harry and Ron glance at each other, before shrugging and following Draco. They pass the flying car, but neither of them know how to drive on the ground, so they leave it in favour of walking. Harry's glad he brought a trunk with wheels. 

Five minutes after they enter Diagon Alley, Professor Snape comes through the fireplace. He glares at them deeply, before letting up and waving them through. They floo straight into his office, and Draco and Harry immediately explain what happened. 

Snape looks annoyed, but that's no different from usual so Harry thinks all is well. Snape leads them up through the dungeons, and to the great hall. 

“The other students will be arriving shortly.” He says, then strides out of the room. They're not the only ones there, but Harry does his best to avoid looking at Lockhart and Flitwick. He doesn't want to talk to either of them. 

The three of them sit in silence for about five minutes, before Ron starts raving about some Chudley Cannons game, and Draco is explaining how his mother tried to get him to garden this year. 

When the rest of the students start filing in, they only get a few odd looks, before people forget and are back to their own lives. Hermione comes in five minutes later, and haughtily sits next to Draco. 

“Where were you? I had to sit with Blaise, Theo, and Neville Longbottom! It was awful.” She exclaims, putting her head down on the table. 

“Oh cheer up Hermione, it wasn't that bad!” Theo says, and Blaise shakes his head. 

“The two of you talked about underwater plants for two hours! I never thought I could be bored of learning, but you did it.” She groans out. Harry and Draco raise their eyes at Theo, who just shrugs. By the time Dumbledore is making the introductory speech, Hermione has raised her head, and she and Draco are discussing the potions book from earlier. 

They're leaving the hall, when a camera flash goes off in front of Harry's face. A little boy opens his mouth, introduces himself as Colin Creevey, but all Harry can hear is the sound of laughter from Blaise and Theo. Harry rolls his eyes and smiles at the kid, but pushes past to follow his house to the hidden stairs. 

\---

A week later, they're in herbology with the gryffindors again. Hermione’s answering question after question, and by the end of the lesson they've accumulated 15 house points, Neville has fainted, and the entirety of the Gryffindor class is glaring at them. 

At lunch, the letter Ron gets from his parents is another one that makes his face close off. Harry doesn't ask, but Ron's eyes flick to his, and the letter slides across to him. 

“Ronald Weasley,  
How dare you! You should have waited for you father and I! This is that Slytherin influence again. We are very disappointed. We had to learn about the problem from Dumbledore! You are in very big trouble. 

~Mum and Dad

P.S. Tell Ginny we love her very much and we're so very proud of her for getting Gryffindor.” 

Objectively, the letter is an upset parent. However, Harry has seen the way Ron's mother treats his Slytherin house, has seen the way she seems to skirt her eyes over his green robes, helping the twins and Ginny with theirs, ignoring Ron’s completely. Harry doesn't think she means to, but Mrs. Weasley shows how little she cares for Ron now that he's in Slytherin. Combined with everyone but the twins avoiding Ron at times, it's bound to be causing problems. 

Harry slides the letter back, and Ron folds it neatly into his pocket. Draco looks at him curiously, but Harry quickly shakes his head. Draco looks back to the book between him and Hermione. 

That night, Ron sits on Harry's bed while he explains about all the letters he sent over the summer. Harry doesn't want to tell Draco just yet, in fear of getting Dobby in trouble, but Ron needed to know he wasn't ignoring him. 

“It's subtle. She's always loved Ginny the most, we all know that. We all love Ginny the most. But, it's the little things she says. Like ‘oh, Ginny dear, that was so brave so courageous.’ As if she's trying to convince Ginny to choose Gryffindor.” He pauses and looks towards the door. “She makes a lot of comments about ‘that cunning Hermione’ and ‘ambition is nothing without morals.’” He sighs, and Harry looks down, where Basil is slowly circling around Ron's wrist. 

“I'm sorry, mate.” Harry says, and Ron just shrugs. 

“I think it's almost worse because I'm not a great wizard? Like, if I was better, got better marks, she might think it was okay. But I'm not, and so she thinks it was a mistake.” Ron gets up and moves back to his own bed. They don't talk again for the rest of the night, but Ron seems lighter. As if by saying out loud, he's letting it go a bit

\---

D.A.D.A. With Lockhart is suddenly his least favourite class. The Cornish Pixies that tore up his books and left Neville hanging from the ceiling have ruined his day. Watching Hermione and Draco stunning pixies and flying them into their cage was the most he learned. 

But after the class, quidditch tryouts are there. Harry and Draco are both buzzing with excitement, and Harry's glad Draco wants to be Chaser or Keeper. Harry's not sure he could do anything but seeker. 

Hermione's watching them from the stands, but he's not sure where Ron is. He'd asked to borrow the cloak last night, and Harry thought he was going to see the Gryffindors, but he'd come back with armfuls of dusty old books. Which, no offence to Ron, is the strangest thing Harry’s seen him do. 

But he hadn't asked, hadn't wanted to ruin whatever fragile state Ron was in further. 

So he and Draco push themselves, and Hermione cheers from the stands. They'd asked if she wanted to try out, but even mentioning flying makes her go pale, so they didn't push it. 

Harry's pushing himself against Theo and a fourth year girl. Theo's skinny, but so tall it slows him down. The girl has the same stature as Harry though, and they're neck and neck for most of the drills. Until, they release the actual snitch. Suddenly Harry's new Nimbus 2001, a birthday gift to himself, seems to kick it up, and he's going just a little faster. The girl seems to slow at the same time. It takes less than five minutes for him to reach, and catch the snitch. He does a loop around the field while Hermione, Draco, and even Theo cheer. He lowers himself to the ground, and tries not to make it look like he's looking up at Marcus. But Marcus just nods at him and says “welcome to the team.”

It's not until the team is back in the air, looking at Draco and Blaise competing for keeper, that Harry realises the other girl is a few feet away, looking over her broom. He walks over quietly. 

“Everything okay?” He asks, and she jumps. Her head snaps to his, glaring, but they flick behind him for a second and then focus back on him. 

“Fine. Absolutely fine.” She says, then grabs her broom and walks off the pitch. Harry looks behind him to see Hermione leaning against the bottom stadium rail. He walks over to her, thinking a mile a minute about the behavior of the girl's broom. 

“Was that you?” He asks when he gets to her. 

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” She says, but there's a smirk on her face and her eyes are shining. Harry laughs a bit, but feels a little concerned by the lack of guilt he feels over it. He wants this though, so what if he got a little boost. He could have done it anyways, but why not use the benefits, and give Hermione a bit of practice. Plus he knows that girl has called Hermione a mudblood more than once, so really he doesn’t feel any guilt at all. Hermione smiles at him then, as if she also knows what he realised, and agrees. 

He turns his attention to Draco and Blaise, on opposite sides of the pitch. By all regards Blaise, who grew about four inches over the summer, should easily be in the lead. Yet, Draco is somehow keeping up. The two of them tied throughout. Harry watches for another five minutes, before he turns to Hermione with a raised brow. 

“No,” she says shaking her head, “Draco would be so mad.” Harry considers this, and eventually agrees. Draco would be mad. Which concerns Harry's that he's not mad, but he's been learning a lot about himself recently, he thinks humorously. 

They both turn back to watch, and cringe when a moment later Blaise almost falls off his broom. He rights himself, but Marcus has clearly already judged. He whistles and the two fly down. Blaise’s face remains stoic, but the smirk that overtakes Draco's is a pretty clear indicator. Blaise nods and shakes Draco's hand, then he's up in the air again. 

“He must be going for bludger now.” Hermione says in Harry's ear. “Oh! By the way, here.” She extends her arm, and Basil slithers out along to him. He cups her gently, and lifts her toward his shoulder. 

“I want to go with you.” She whispers once she reaches his ear. 

“It's too dangerous.” Harry starts, and she scoffs. Or whatever the snake equivalent of a scoff is. Pragmatically he continues with, “Maybe if you develop wings like Blaise said you might.” 

She sighs deeply, but relaxes into him, so he figures she agrees. Draco comes striding towards them, and he gives a wide smile once he's close enough. 

“Guess who just joined the team, Potter.” He says, and Harry laughs at him. 

“Congratulations, Malfoy.” He responds, and the two laugh a bit. Hermione is probably rolling her eyes behind him, and Draco flushes a little when he glances at her. Harry wants to raise an eyebrow, but also he really doesn't want to know. So he pretends it didn't happen and begins walking off the pitch. 

\---

That night, Basil wakes Harry in a frenzy. She's rushing up and down the bed, circling his wrists and ankles. He bolts up, and tries to stop her movements, but she slides away from him. 

“Basil, what's wrong?” Harry asks, and she seems to jump at his voice. She stills over his ankle, and looks at him. 

“Something's wrong. I can feel it. We have to go.” She slides off the bed, to the door, and Harry can do nothing but follow her. As soon as he opens the door, she takes off for the common room. He catches up quickly, and she slides up him, to his left arm. Pulling his sleeve, she directs him to the exit, up through the stairs, and towards the first-floor corridor. 

“Basil, there's nothing here!” Harry whispers, belatedly realising he forgot his cloak. She's in a frenzy again, making herself big then small, and encircling his wrist. She's trembling, and he's suddenly very, very afraid. 

“Mr. Potter.” Filtch’s voice calls, and Harry startled and turns to face him. He's holding Mrs. Norris, petting her slowly. “Out late aren't we? That's against the rules.” The cruel smile that overtakes his face makes Harry shiver, and Basil disappears up his sleeve. 

“I'm sorry sir, I must've been sleepwalking.” He quickly says, but Filtch only scoffs. 

“Come along, we’ll find the teacher on watch.” Filtch leads him back towards the Great Hall. By the time they reach it, Basil has curled up on Harry's ear. Entering the hall, Harry nearly groans aloud at the sight of Lockhart sitting at a table. The man's bright smile makes Harry want to throw a punch. 

“Ah, Mr. Potter! Out for a late stroll? I often take those myself, clears the head from any, shall we say, after-affects.” He pauses, but continues when Harry says nothing. “From the fame, yes? Well of course you know.”

“Mr. Lockhart.” Filtch interrupts, and Lockhart shakes his head. 

“Right, well off to bed. You'll serve two detentions with me.” He says, then waves his hand at them. Filtch huffs in annoyance, but Harry leaves before he can argue. 

When he gets back to bed, he gently deposits Basil on the pillow. She expands a bit, but not as much as usual. 

“Are you okay?” Harry whispers. 

“Yes. And no. There were whispers. They wanted to kill. They wanted me to kill.” Her voice is quieter than he's ever heard. He expects a sense of panic to rise in him, but all he feels is sadness. She's truly afraid, when she never has been before. 

“We’ll figure it out.” Harry says, even though he's not sure what it is. But it helps, Basil expands a bit more, and he lays on his side facing her. She curls the end of her tail around his wrist, and they both fall asleep quickly after. 

\---

Harry doesn't forget about the night, he can't, what with doing detention with Lockhart (answering fan mail for God’s sake), but he does push it back in his mind a bit. Tries not to think about it. 

Until the whispers come. 

“Come. Come to me.” Surrounds him, and he jumps, along with Basil. She's quivering again, he can feel her shaking in his pocket. He asks Lockhart, but he's dumb as a rock so he doesn't expect much. 

But he lets Harry go, and he quickly leaves towards the common room. Until the whispers come back as he's walking. 

“Blood. I smell blood.” It starts with. Harry follows the voice down the hall. Then, “Let me rip you. Let me kill you. Kill. Kill! Kill!”

“Harry!” Hermione's voice interrupts, and he jumps away from the wall. 

“Did you hear it?” He asks, but of course they didn't because Harry thinks he’s starting to know now what the difference between parseltongue and English is, even if he can't differentiate the words. The follow him as “it's time” comes and he charges after the voice. 

The floor in the first year corridor is wet, but Harry barely notices when he sees the spiders and the red words on the wall. 

“The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir beware.” Hermione reads aloud. “It's written in blood.”

Basil is back to quivering, but she’s behind his ear this time so he can feel every tremor. He wants to reach for her, but his eyes snag on Mrs. Norris before he can. Hermione gasps, and Ron takes a step back. 

Harry goes to step forward, but Hermione grabs his arm, pulling him back with her. Other students begin to filter into the hall, and he's grateful that she's so observant. 

Draco is at the head of one group of students, staring blankly at the wall. 

It's Goyle who speaks up first. “Enemies of the heir beware?” He looks to Hermione, “you'll be next, mudblood.” 

Before Harry or Ron can even step towards him, Draco has turned and punched him in the face. Goyle stares in shock at Draco, but then his eyes snap fearfully to Hermione. Harry glances at her, and that look is back. The steely glare that makes even Harry afraid. Crabbe and Goyle eye each other, and step to the back of the crowd. 

“What's going on here?” Filch’s voice calls out, and Harry's suddenly being pulled by his clothes and threatened. 

“Argus!” Dumbledore calls, and Harry stumbles back towards Hermione and Ron, and now Draco who has come to stand by Hermione. Dumbledore marches up, but freezes at the sight of the words. 

He dismisses all the students but the four of them, and tells them all that Mrs. Norris is petrified, not dead. Lockhart standing up for Harry is somehow the weirdest part of the night. 

“We were just looking for Harry,” Hermione starts, “when he said he wasn't hungry.” Harry's grateful to her for lying, but the knowing look in Dumbledore’s eyes doesn't put him at ease. 

His recommendation of caution helps even less. 

\---

“It was parseltongue, wasn't it?” Hermione asks once they're in the common room. Harry nods at her, while Basil extends to his shoulders. 

“Something is happening here, something bad.” Harry says, and they all look at the walls nervously. 

“The heir…” Draco starts, and they all turn to him. “Does it mean the heir of Slytherin?”

Harry and Ron look at him blankly, while Hermione looks back to the ground in thought. They don't say more about it, but both Draco and Hermione are tense going to bed. 

The next day, transfiguration takes a turn. When Ron is able to transfigure Scabbers into a cup on the first try, the whole class lets out an impressed whoop. Ron's spell work has improved by miles in the last few weeks, and Harry's curious as to what happened, if it has to do with the mysterious books he keeps sneaking in. 

But then Hermione is adopting her innocent tone and asking “Professor, I wondered if you might tell us more about the chamber of secrets?” And McGonagall's face is whitening just a bit. 

Still, McGonagall goes on to explain Salazar Slytherin’s ideas that only purebloods should study at Hogwarts. How he built the chamber, and how it's never been found. 

“But Professor, what exactly is in the chamber?” Hermione interrupts. 

“It is said that it is something only the heir of Slytherin can control. It is said to be, a monster.” The others in class gasp, but Harry, Ron, Draco, and Hermione sit in steely silence over this information.

As they're leaving class, Draco is the one to point it out. “We all know what this means, right?” Although, Harry's not sure he does. 

“It's got to be a snake,” Hermione whispers, “or at least something that speaks parseltongue.”

Harry gazes straight ahead blankly, unsure how to process this information. 

“We need to know more.” Draco says. “We need to know if there are other parseltongues. Or at least know what the teachers know.”

“I might be able to help with that.” Hermione says, then abruptly turns them towards the library. “Draco and I read this book last week, and it had something I think might help.” Draco groans after a minute, apparently realising what it is. 

The two of them comb through the shelves, while Harry and Ron sit in a corner on a desk. When they come back with Moste Potente Potions, Harry tries to ignore the nauseous swoop in his stomach.

“We’ll need Lockhart hair.” Hermione says, and Harry looks at her sharply. 

“Why Lockhart? Can't it be anyone but Lockhart?” He begs, but Hermione shakes her head. 

“He's the dumbest of them all. He's the only one they won't realise isn't right.” And he knows she's right, but he also knows he's the one who'll have to get the hair and he's not looking forward to it. 

Surprisingly, it's easier than he thought. Lockhart sheds like crazy and all Harry has to do is scoop some up after his third detention. 

Now they just have to wait a month. 

\---

The first quidditch game of the season, naturally, is against Gryffindor. Harry's watching from high above as Slytherin pounds into them. Katie Bell seems sweet, but she's hovering just behind him, clearly unused to this position and just waiting for him to move. He considers feinting, but wants to save it for a harder match. They're already up 60 points when he finally spots it. Darting across the field suddenly, his eyes go wide at the bludger headed straight towards him. He dives suddenly, and winces at the sound Katie Bell makes as she takes the full force of the bludger. It keeps following him, so his chase for the snitch becomes less about the snitch, and more about staying alive. 

He's still following the snitch as it dances around the pitch, until it suddenly darts upwards. Harry pulls up after it, but the bludger moves forward, right into one of the twin’s bats. Harry's moving up, and it's too late to stop himself, so he hopes to God Fred or George has bad aim. Which, either it's really bad, or the twin just hit the bludger as far off the pitch as possible, maybe trying to actually help him. But Harry can't focus on that right now. He dives after the snitch, following it through the rafters. It pulls up suddenly, and Harry almost runs right into the bludger. 

He dives down at the last second, but he can feel it coming back. He reaches out quickly, when the bludger suddenly careens into his wrist. He cries out in pain, but the snitch is still right there. He reaches out quick with his left arm, and just manages to snatch it before his broom tips him over. He falls three feet to the ground, but his adrenaline is spiking, and even the pain in his wrist seems to fade a bit. 

Then, the bludger is back, sailing towards his head. He rolls quickly out of the way, but it keeps trying to hit him. It's not until Hermione yells “Finite Incantartum” that his wrist and arm really starts to burn again. 

“Are you okay, Harry?” She asks, but he's saying no, and showing her his wrist. 

“Not to worry Harry! I will fix that arm of yours straight away!” Lockhart is saying, reaching for his arm, but Harry pulls away quickly. 

“No, not you.” And Lockhart tries to argue, but Draco and Hermione are already pushing him out of the way. 

“Brackium Emendo.” Ron whispers, and Harry suddenly feels his bones pop back into place. Once the instant of blinding pain is over though, he notes the rest of the pain has disappeared. He offers Ron a quiet thanks, and they help Harry to stand. 

“You should see Madam Pomfrey anyways Harry.” Hagrid says, and the other three all agree. 

It takes about ten minutes in the infirmary, Madam Pomfrey spending most of time alternating between berating and praising Ron. By the end of it they send Harry back to the dormitory. 

\---

“Kill. Kill. Time to kill.” The voice seems to call, and Harry wakes with a start. Grabbing his glasses, he sits up, and nearly jumps out of his skin when he notes Dobby sitting on the end of his bed. 

“Dobby?” Harry asks groggily, and the elf puts a finger to his lips. 

“Harry Potter should have listened to Dobby. Harry Potter should have gone back home when he missed the train!” Dobby whispers. 

“It was you?” Harry asks, but a groan from Malloy interrupts his next words. 

“Dobby!” Malformed exclaims. “Dobby what are you doing here?” He asks, and Dobby looks torn between hitting his head on the bedpost and crying. 

“Dobby is sorry. Dobby did not mean to disobey.” The house elf begins, then starts banging his head against the post anyways. 

“Dobby stop!” Draco calls, and the elf immediately ceases movements. “Dobby tell me what you are doing here.” 

“D-Dobby came to warn Harry Potter. To try and send Harry Potter h-home.” Dobby stutters. 

“But why?” Harry asks, and Dobby looks torn again. 

Still, he answers with, “Y-you are important. Dobby remembers how it was before Harry Potter triumphed over he-who-must-not-be-named. We house elves were treated like vermin, sir!” Dobby seems to realise what he said, and immediately turns to Draco. “I'm sorry master, I did not mean to offend. Dobby will iron his hands later as a punishment.”

“No- Dobby do not do that.” Draco sounds pained, and Harry wonders absently if he ever really uses the house elves. The sound of rustling from Ron's bed startles Dobby, and he leans closer to Harry. 

“Harry Potter must leave hogwarts before it is too late. Now that history is to repeat itself, it is not safe.” The rustling grows louder, and before Harry can ask another question, Dobby disappears. 

Draco curses, but Ron is waking up now. They catch him up to speed quickly, and Ron is the first to ask, “Draco, why does Dobby know all this.”

“I… I don't know, but my father was acting odd all summer. I thought it was something at the ministry, but now I'm not so sure.” Draco's mouth is turned down in a deep frown, and he looks more upset than Harry has ever seen him. 

Absently, Harry remembers Draco’s father was at the game, but did not stop to say hello to Draco. Again, he wonders what the relationship is, even if he understands the fear draco has for his father in an abstract way, he's not sure he really understands. 

“What did Dobby mean, ‘history repeats itself’? Has this happened before?” Harry asks, but the two boys shake their heads. 

“We should ask Hermione, in the morning.” Draco says, and they agree. Harry doesn't think he'll be able to sleep, but Basil curls around his wrist again, and he's out within ten minutes. 

\---

“Could your father have opened it when he was at school?” Ron asks Draco cautiously. 

They're sitting in the first-floor girls lavatory. According to Hermione, Moaning Myrtle haunts it, and nobody ever goes in. It's the perfect spot for the small batch of polyjuice potion. Minus the occasional wailing he can hear, which he thinks might be from Myrtle. 

“No. My father loves to brag about his school days. Unless he lied completely about one full year, he hasn't done it.” Draco says, and nobody seems to want to point out the lying part. 

“Well, in any case,” Hermione pragmatically says, “we’ll know more once we finish this potion.”

They’re all carefully avoiding the fact that Colin Creevey, the muggle-born boy with camera from the welcome feast, was apparently brought to the infirmary last night, after being petrified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of like thinking about how different Ron would be with some ambition, and Draco with some real friends. still unsure where this is going lol. also apologies for any spelling errors, I do have dyslexia and no one to edit for me rn, but feel free to point them out, I might edit and fix things someday!


	3. Chamber of Secrets pt. 2

The Great Hall had transformed in less than an hour, into the long duelling table that now crosses it. The four of them are sitting on the Slytherin side, near where Snape stands. Lockhart is spewing facts, counting down to his ‘demonstration’ duel, when Snape murmurs out “expelliarmus,” and Lockhart goes flying. 

Harry can't hold in the laugh, and soon he and Draco are clutching each other's shoulders, doubled over. But then Lockhart is asking for a volunteer pair, and his eyes narrow on them. 

“Potter, Malfoy!” He yells, and two sober up instantly. They pull themselves up, and Harry walks the length to the other end. He turns to face Draco, and nearly laughs again at the serious look on his face. They walk towards each other, and each step Harry has to fight the smile off his face. 

They're about three feet away when Lockhart calls “Wands at the ready!”

“Scared, Potter?” Draco bites out, and Harry nearly loses it. 

He manages to reply, “You wish.” Before both boys are barely holding back laughs. Snape and Lockhart don't look very impressed, but Harry’s already having the time of his life. 

They walk back to the other ends, and raid their wands on Lockhart’s “one!” 

At “two!” Both he and Malfoy shout their hexes. 

Malloy manages “anteoclulatia” and Harry can feel the antlers growing from his head. 

At the same time, Harry’s “Avifors” leaves the transfigured Malloy flapping in the air. He squawks (indignantly) and flies for Harry. Harry, Ron, and Hermione are laughing, but the rest of the room seems shocked into silence. 

By the time Lockhart shouts “Stop!” Snape is already casting the counter curses to each. Harry doesn't think Snape knows how to smile, but his expression as of now is as close as he thinks he’ll ever get. 

“Perhaps, a pair less likely to poke fun.” Lockhart says shakily, and it's then Harry realises why the others weren't laughing. They haven't learned those spells yet. Those are from the books Draco and Hermione bring back from the library..

“Right. How about, Goyle!” Snape finally shouts, and he clamours up. Harry swallows thickly, understanding that this is real now. He and Goyle are not friends. About as far from friends as you can get really. 

They go through the motions, and the hall is dead silent as they take their places at either side. “Disarm only!” Lockhart says brightly, but Harry knows better. He knows what's about to happen. 

Still, he's not prepared for the “serpenaortium” that Goyle immediately casts, nor the giant snake that erupts from his wand. The snake slides towards Harry, who's shoved aside by Lockhart. 

“Alarte Ascendaré!” Lockhart calls, but the snake only flies into the air before falling down closer to Harry than before. It flares the sides of its face, and Lockhart stumbles back behind Harry. The snake hisses at him again

Harry feels Basil stiffen behind his ear then, and before he can stop her, she's jumping and expanding in mid air. The other snake startled, instantly shrinking back from the large form of Basil. Harry thinks he can almost see the beginnings of wings forming on Basil's side then, as if they've just started to grow. 

Basil expands further, and screams at the snake to “leave him alone!” And before Harry knows it, Snape is calling out “vipera evanesca.”

When Snape turns his wand on Basil, Harry’s in front of her before he knows he's moved. “No!” He shouts, while Hermione, Draco, and Ron all begin climbing onto the platform as if to stop Snape physically as well. “She's mine!” 

The silence that follows is deafening, as Basil slowly slithers up the back of his leg, shrinking in size as she goes. She slides into his robe pocket, and goes still. Snape is looking at him oddly, but he ignores it and walks to the edge, pulling his friends down with him. Draco and Hermione take either side, and Ron to his back. He's not sure what the show of strength here is, but he appreciates it all the same. 

\---

By the time they're at study hall, the whole school has learned of “Harry Potter and his Snake.” The rumours have tumbled from there, and half school now seems to think he's Slytherin’s actual heir. 

The whispers surrounding him start grating on his and Basil’s nerves too much, and he stands suddenly with his stuff. The other three stare at him, but he just walks off without a word. Basil whispers an “I'm sorry” in his ear, but he shakes his head slightly. He's okay. She's okay. That's what really matters. 

He's around the corner when he hears it. 

“Blood. I want blood.” He follows the sound along the wall. “They all must die. Kill. Kill. Kill! Time to kill.” He loses the sound after a few feet, but the next few corners he rounds shows nearly-headless Nick floating frozen in the air, and Ernie MacMillan petrified, with water all over the floor. 

“Caught in the act, Potter!” He hears Filtch say, and he turns to explain but the man is already gone. He looks back to Ernie, and sees the same trail of spiders he noticed earlier. 

Filch brings McGonagall back with him, and she drags him to Dumbledore's office. He enters the door to an empty office. He walks through the room, and finds the sorting hat. 

“Bee in your bonnet, Potter?” It asks, and Harry thinks before answering. 

“I was just wondering, if you put me in the right house?” He finally asks. 

“Ah yes, you were particularly hard to place. That snake of yours changes things a bit. However, I think you know you do well in Slytherin. Especially with those friends of yours.” 

“My friends?” He asks, confused.

“Slytherins have a talent for loyalty, and for ambition. You’ll do great things with them. Whether or not those great things are good or bad however, is yet to be decided.” The hat closes then, clearly done speaking, and Harry looks around. 

On a perch, a mangled red bird is standing. As he looks at it, it bursts into flames. Harry jumps back, and he hears Basil’s hissing laugh. 

“It's a Phoenix.” She whispers to him. “It will rise from its ashes, stronger than before.” 

“Harry?” Dumbledore’s voice calls, and he looks up to see him standing on top of the stairs. 

“Your Phoenix, sir?” Harry questions, and Dumbledore smiles. 

“Ah yes, Fawkes was due for a burning day. Pity you had to see him today, he's quite magnificent otherwise.” Harry looks back to the ashes, and sees the beginnings of a baby bird head poke out. Basil slithers down, and perches off Harry's shoulder. She nods her head to the bird, and it nods back. Harry looks at Dumbledore, but he's staring curiously at Basil. 

Before he or Dumbledore can say anything, Hagrid comes rushing in, yelling about Harry's innocence. 

Harry still isn't sure what he did to inspire such loyalty from the man. 

“Hagrid, I do not believe Harry is guilty.” Dumbledore says, and Hagrid mutters a quiet ‘Oh’ before leaving with an embarrassed nod. 

“You don't think it was me?” Harry asks, and Dumbledore smiles kindly at him. 

“No, Harry. I do not think it was you. But I must ask you… where did you find such a beautiful specimen?” He points to Basil then, and Harry flushes slightly. 

“I, uh, I followed her voice. To a store near Diagon Alley. She said she was waiting for me.” He explains, and Dumbledore’s eyes widen in surprise. 

“That is a very special thing Harry. To have a familiar is very rare these days.” He motions to Fawkes, a fond smile on his face. 

“Sir, what is a familiar?” Harry asks. 

“Perhaps your friend Hermione might be able to tell you more about it?” He questions and Harry notes the dismissal for what it is. 

\---

“Hermione,” Harry starts that night in the library, “what are familiars?” Her eyes do that thing where they brighten, and he wonders if he's accidentally started an hour long lesson. 

“In mythology, they're a demon that takes the form of an animal. They tend to find a witch or wizard that their soul connects with. For example, Filch and his cat. Although I'm not really sure that's right, because Filch isn't magic.” She trails off in thought, before straightening again. “Anyways, they're said to help powerful wizards, to help their powers grow stronger and help lead them through life. They are very rare though, only a few each century are even recorded or heard of.” 

Harry nods, and absently pats Basil’s head. Hermione gazes fondly at the action, before her eyes go wide. 

“Oh my god!” She exclaims, and Harry looks at her wide eyed. “Basil is your familiar. I can't believe I didn't think of that before!” She gets up suddenly, and disappears behind the shelves. Harry blinks after her, then turns to look at Basil. 

“Did you know?” He asks quietly. 

“Well I thought you called us pet. I couldn't remember the right name. Familiar feels right though.” She says, and Harry nods slightly. It does feel right. Much better than pet. 

\---

Christmas comes faster than Harry expects. Draco decides to stay again this year, and they manage to start it off with a mess. 

They need a distraction for Lockhart while they sneak into the teachers area, and somehow Harry ends up volunteering to do it. 

So, he's knocking on Lockharts door, and offering to help answer fan mail, which sounds worse than trying to reach the Philosopher’s Stone. Of course, he ends up spending three hours instead of one, listening to Lockhart go on and on about his accomplishments. Honestly, Harry's not even sure he can believe a word the man says, and by the time he's done his hand is numb. 

He's walking past Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, when he hears the sound of wailing. He looks down to see a trickle of water streaming out the door, slowly building until it’s passing him. He pushes open the door, and walks into the flooded bathroom. 

All the faucets are on except one, and Myrtle is sitting between the row of stalls, moaning. Or wailing. Harry's not sure what the difference is. Either way she’s upset. 

“Myrtle,” he says, and she jumps, “are you okay?”

“Are you here to throw another book at me?” She bites out, and Harry blinks at her. 

“Why would I throw a book at you Myrtle?”

“Don't ask me! I was just minding my own business, sitting in my U-Bend, when someone throws a book on my head!” She's crying again and Harry doesn't really know what to do. 

“Uh, are- are you okay?” He asks, and Myrtle stops crying to look up at him. 

“No.” She says, and promptly starts crying again. 

“Do you know who did it?” Harry asks, but she shakes her head. She points to the ground, and Harry notes a waterlogged black book lying there. 

He picks it up, and looks for Myrtle, but she's flying back into her toilet so he leaves quickly, turning off the faucets as he goes. 

\---

“I don't like it!” Hermione shouts at him, and he and Draco wince at the shrillness of it, she lowers her voice. “Disappearing into a book? That's not natural magic and I can't find any books on it!”

Harry's beginning to regret telling her about Tom Riddle, and the idea that Hagrid might be behind it all. 

He's taken to carrying the book with him at all times, afraid Hermione is right, and the book is dangerous. 

But right now, it's sitting at his desk while he follows Hermione through the library aisles. She's still going on about the dangers of magic (funny, because he knows she has at least ten books from the restricted section under her bed right now), but he’s tuned her out. 

They walk a few more aisles before she stops and turns to them. “Neither of you have been listening.” She sighs, and Draco makes an indignant noise. 

“I was listening! You were talking about Gamp’s Laws.” Hermione quirks an eyebrow, but a small smile forms as she rolls her eyes. Harry nearly groans aloud, thinking he’s about to get stuck in the middle of their weird thing again. She leads them back towards their desks. 

Except, their desks are a mess. All of their books have been thrown around, and all their bags have been emptied. Harry runs to his desk, but he already knows. 

“It's gone.” He whispers. “Riddle’s diary is gone.”

\---

He's waiting on the pitch with Ron, when Snape comes marching up to them. 

“Come with me.” He says, and they quickly exit down the stairs. They confusedly follow him towards the infirmary, and Harry's stomach twists when he sees who’s lying on the two beds. 

Hermione and Draco are side by side, holding each other's hands. Hermione has one hand extended, and Draco his opposite. He and Ron rush to their sides, but can't bring themselves to touch them. 

“They were found with these.” Snape holds up two mirrors. “Any ideas why?” He asks, but they shake their heads no. He nods, “we’ll leave you with them for a few moments.” He and Madam Pomfrey briskly walk out and close the doors behind them. 

“Harry,” Ron says, “there's something in between their hands.” Harry looks, and a piece of paper is just sticking out from it. He reaches forwards and tries to pull it out. It rips slightly, but he's able to make out the words “enemy to spiders. The eyes will kill those who make direct eye contact, and petrify any who see a reflection.”

He reads it aloud, and is about to ask Ron what that means when he feels Basil trembling in his pocket. He pulls her out and squints at her shaking form. 

“Basil? What is it, what’s wrong?” She shaking but she manages to whisper one word. 

“Basilisk.” She says, and while it means nothing to Harry, he sees Ron go stiff and cold. 

“Pipes.” Ron whispers, and Harry looks at him oddly. “A basilisk is a giant snake. It's supposed to be myth. But you've been hearing it through the walls. The pipes Harry!” He sounds a bit hysteric, so Harry just nods. 

“All students must return to their house dormitories at once. All teachers to the second floor corridor, immediately.”

Harry and Ron take off for the second floor corridor. He's not sure if they know what they're doing, but he knows he has to understand more. 

Yet, when they arrive chaos is already ensuing. Snape is accusing Lockhart of knowing where the chamber is, and the teachers are all bequeathing the task to him. It's not until McGonagall breathes “Ginny Weasley” that Harry even realises he's decided they need to help Lockhart. 

They run the long way to Lockhart’s office, avoiding the rest of the teachers. When they enter to see Lockhart packing, he wishes he could say he was surprised. But he's not, not in the slightest. 

The surprising part is Ron saying “imperio” before Lockhart has even fully raised his wand. Harry's not sure what exactly it does, but he recognises the numb look that overcomes Lockhart’s face- as if he's been drugged. Ron looks at Harry nervously. 

“I-I'm sorry! I didn't know what else to do!” He shouts. 

“Ron, I have no idea what you did, but I'm glad you did it.” He responds, and Ron nods numbly. “Is this from those books you've been reading?”

“Yes. I-it's an unforgivable curse. Illegal in the wizarding world.” He whispers nervously, but Harry does not care about that right now. He simply nods and pulls Ron after him. 

“I think we need to talk to Myrtle.” Harry says, and then explains to Ron his theory about the water and her death. When they get there, an entranced Lockhart with them, Myrtle is wailing some song, and he has to clear his theory twice to get her attention. “Myrtle,” he says when she finally stops, “I need you to tell me how you died.”

“Oh!” She says excitedly. “It was dreadful. I'd hidden because Oliver Hornsby was teasing me about my glasses. I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in.”

“Who was it?” Harry asks. 

“I don't know! I was distraught!” She says with a hiccup. “But they said something funny, a kind of made-up language. And I realised it was a boy speaking, so I unlocked the door to tell him to go away and… I died.”

“Just like that? How?”

“I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes… right over there.” She points to one of the sinks, and Harry follows to it. She floats away, but Harry hardly notices once he sees the snakes adorning the side of the faucet. 

“Say something.” Basil whispers to Harry, and he immediately whispers back to her. The sink rises, and they watch in awe as it separates to show an open hole in the ground. 

Ron waves his wand, and suddenly Lockhart is jumping into the hole. Harry's not sure how this spell works, but he thinks he's glad Ron is the one doing it. A groan comes from Lockhart, before he tells Ron he’s okay, and they follow quickly. 

When they reach the bottom, Harry tries to ignore the bones, and then the massive snake skin. Ron directs Lockhart to stay in front of them, and again Harry is surprised by the lack of guilt he feels. He’s actually more concerned about that lack of guilt than about Lockhart himself.

They make it to a cave entrance, adorned with eight serpents. Harry speaks to it, and the eight serpent circles around to unlock the door. They enter down the ladder slowly, and Ron pushes Lockhart to the side when he sees Ginny’s body. He runs for her, and Harry almost tells him to stop, but he's running too. 

When Tom shows up Harry almost isn't surprised. It's Ron who exclaims “no!” When Tom explains Ginny opened the chamber, but Harry’s already looking around wildly for the snake. 

“Voldemort is my past, present, and future.” Tom continues monologuing, and draws out I Am Lord Voldemort. And then they're shouting at each other. 

When Fawkes throws the hat at him, he has half a mind to set it on fire. But then Tom is speaking to the statue, and Harry is screaming at Ron “close your eyes!” He lies down next to Ginny, and Harry hopes to God it'll follow him, not Ron. 

Suddenly, Fawkes is behind him, tearing out the Basilisk’s eyes. The bird takes off, and Harry's running hard away from the creature. When he finds himself stuck in one of the tubes, Basil wiggles her way free. She slithers quietly down him, until she reaches the ground. He watches with fear as she expands rapidly, and then surely there are beautiful blue wings sprouting from her body. She flaps wildly for a minute, before turning and hissing loudly. Harry hears the basilisk go racing after her, and tries to staunch the panic he feels. 

He runs back to the front, quickly up to Ron and Ginny. Tom has the wand pointed at Ron’s neck, and Harry runs towards them, when he hears the wild warnings form Basil. He dives quickly to the ground, as the basilisk jumps from the water. He gets up and continues running, when Basil suddenly shouts “the hat!”

He grabs it on his way, surprised by the sudden heaviness of it. Looking in, he catches the glint of silver and grabs the sword sticking out of it. The basilisk is thrashing behind him, and he quickly dives around the side of the giant statue. Ridges on the side provide leverage, and he's pulling himself up them quickly when the basilisk makes its first strike. It's blindness keeps her from hitting him, but it’s so close Harry doesn't think it'll miss the next time. He scrambles up the last few feet, and pushes himself back against the wall as soon as he's up. Basil is flapping loudly around the basilisk, making it snap it's head back and forth, until Harry steps forward on the stone. 

The basilisk freezes, as if zeroing in on the sound of Harry's footsteps. By the time it's head rears back, Harry has the sword angled perfectly. When it strikes, Harry manages to stick the sword straight through the top of his mouth. He doesn't realise until he's pulled back though, that a fang has embedded itself in his arm. He winces, and Basil seems to give a half squawk half hiss at him. He lowers himself slowly down the side of the statue, and pulls himself back to Ron and Ginny’s side. 

He kneels by them and curses at Tom. He's still gripping the fang, when Basil slides around his shoulders. 

“Stab the diary.” She whispers in his ear, and Harry automatically follows her directions. His vision begins to blur, but he manages to see Tom fill with light before disappearing. 

Ginny wakes, and Ron's there to hold her. Harry lies down slowly, and he feels Basil curl up on his chest. He's about to close his eyes when he feels hot liquid on his arm. Turning his head, he sees Fawkes crying over his wound. 

“Thank you.” He whispers as his vision starts to clear. He feels some of his strength seep back, and he looks to the crying form of Ginny. 

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” She's whispering over and over. Harry shakes his head, tries to tell her it's okay, but his throat is too thick to say anything so he just keeps shaking his head. 

It takes him and Ron another five minutes before they remember Lockhart. Looking up at the same time, they look back to the entrance. Lockhart is lying still on the ground, and Harry doesn't think he's breathing. 

Getting up slowly, Basil curling on his shoulders, he walks slowly to the body. Ron tells Ginny to stay, but she follows anyway. By the time Harry gets there he already knows it's true. A gash on Lockhart’s shoulder is obvious, and he's probably been dead since Harry ran past for the pipes. 

Ginny’s gasp brings Harry back to the present, and he suddenly realises that she hasn't seen or even been close to death before. Ron quickly pulls Ginny back, and Harry looks around, trying to figure out how exactly they'll climb the pipes with a dead body. 

Fawkes flies over, and Basil moves so he can settle on Harry's shoulder. He lets out a series of musical tones, and Harry looks to Basil for help. 

“She says she’ll come back for him.” Basil whispers, and Harry nods. He turns around to find Ron hugging Ginny tight while she silently sobs. Harry feels a twinge of sympathy, but his goal is to get them out. He walks over to them. 

“Hold on to her tight.” Harry says to Ron, and he nods. Fawkes grips Harry’s arm through the shirt, and Harry tightly grabs Ron’s arm. Ginny wraps her arms around Ron’s waist, and suddenly they're airborne. Fawkes’s grip stays strong, and he flies fast enough Harry barely realises they've come out of a cave on the outskirts of the grounds. Fawkes drops them in the Great Hall, and immediately turns back. He arrives with Lockhart’s body less than ten minutes later. 

It doesn't take long for someone to alert a professor, and Snape comes rushing up from the side staircase. He stops in his tracks at the sight of Lockhart’s body, but quickly recovers. He moves past it to Harry. Looking up at him, Harry suddenly realises Snape is actually concerned about him. 

“I'm fine, sir.” He says, and Snape scoffs at him. He reaches out a hand to turn Harry's chin back and forth, before pulling back to nod slightly. He opens his mouth, but before he can respond to Harry, footsteps reach their ears. 

McGonagall, Pomfrey, and Flitwick come rushing down the stairs towards them. Snape swiftly steps back from Harry, towards Lockhart’s body. Ginny is still crying while Ron hugs her, but none of the professors even look at her. They all stare wide eyed at Lockhart’s body. Madam Pomfrey has a hand to her mouth, McGonagall looks sick, and Harry suddenly feels angry. 

This ‘professor’ was a liar, and all of the other professors seemed to have known that from the beginning. Yet, here they are mourning him, a man he's pretty sure they all avoided like the plague. None of them have even looked to Ginny, who's alive and needs medical attention now. Harry's rage over this starts to rise, and he’s about to yell at them, when his eyes flick to Ron. 

Suddenly, he remembers the spell Ron used, something ‘unforgivable’ he'd said. If the teachers found out just how much of a fraud Lockhart was, they might question why he went with them. Thinking quickly, Harry adopts a tone of sadness. 

“He tried to push me out of the way. There was a basilisk,” gasps at that, “and before Fawkes could blind it, it came after me, and he jumped in the way. He saved my life.” Harry keeps his tone a balance between sadness and awe, and he doesn't think anyone looks twice. Except maybe Snape, but Harry has a feeling he won't say anything. 

Finally, Madam Pomfrey looks away from the body, to Ginny’s sobbing form. Ron's looking at Harry, but his face is carefully neutral. When he looks at Ginny it softens a bit, and Harry feels a pang over that kind of love. But then Ginny is being taken to the infirmary, and he and Ron are led to Dumbledore’s office. Fawkes comes flying in after, the hat and the sword clutched in its talons. Harry had completely forgotten about them. 

“You two broke hundreds of school rules tonight,” Dumbledore starts, “however, you also committed some amazing feats. You will be given an award for special services to the school.” They smile grimly at that, but Dumbledore’s tone is full of sadness. Harry knows what he should say, but Ron beats him to it. 

“Sir, does… does Lockhart have family? How do we honour him?” Ron asks, and Dumbledore blinks at him for a moment. 

“Mr. Weasley, please do not think for a moment that I do not know exactly what happened in the chamber.” He says, and Ron's eyes go wide with fear. “Not to worry my boy, everyone is allowed to make a mistake every once in a while.” Ron nods furiously, and Dumbledore smiles kindly at him. “Mr. Weasley, I would appreciate it if you would deliver this letter? It holds the release papers for Hagrid.”

Ron nods, and practically runs out of the office. Once he's gone, the tension in the room seems to rise. Harry turns back to face Dumbledore, who is staring down at the sword Harry used. 

“Harry, do you know what this sword is?” Dumbledore ask, and Harry shakes his head. “This, is the sword of Godric Gryffindor. By all accounts, only a Gryffindor should be able to retrieve the sword. However, it values bravery, and I do believe you were very brave tonight.”

“Sir, I don't think I had a choice.” 

“You're right, my boy, you're very right. But, you still did your best.” Dumbledore passes then to stare at him. “Is there something you want to ask?”

“When I was talking to Tom,” Harry starts nervously, “I think I recognised pieces of myself in him? And I guess I was just wondering. There's not a lot I know about… that night. And I wanted to know, sir, if it's possible that when Voldemort disappeared, not all of him disappeared?”

“Harry I think I may have underestimated you.” Dumbledore says, and Harry furrows his eyebrows. “Yes, I believe that when Voldemort tried to kill you, and the curse rebounded, a part of his power transferred to you. It might be why you can speak to snakes.”

“It's why I'm in Slytherin.” Harry says, even though he doesn't believe that, he just knows it's what Dumbledore wants to hear. 

“Harry, you belong with your friends. Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley, and even Mr. Malfoy. They are where you belong. Stay with them and all will be alright.” Harry's about to ask how Dumbledore knows this, when the door blows open, and Mr. Malfoy comes striding back in. 

“Where, is my son!” He exclaims, and Harry jumps at the fury behind it. “You are back, against the ruling of the board, and here my son still lies in petrification, and I'm not allowed to see him!”

“Lucius please.” Dumbledore raises a hand lightly. “I will take you to young Mr. Malfoy. They are creating the mandrake cure as we speak, please have patience.”

“Patience! You allowed a deranged girl to lead a snake around and petrify my son! That girl should be locked up!” He shouts. 

“That girl, was under the control of Voldemort!” Harry shouts back, and Mr. Malfoy looks at him in disgust. 

“Harry, is correct, Lucius. This journal,” he holds up Tom’s diary, “held a particular amount of memories from Lord Voldemort, and was able to control the girl easily. We are still investigating how she came across such a dangerous item.” 

Mr. Malfoy looks angrily between the two of them, before turning and leaving the room. Harry notices Dobby standing outside the door, and Mr. Malfoy sends a kick at him as they leave. 

“Sir,” Harry turns back towards the desk, “are you really still investigating?” There’s a twinkle in Dumbledore’s eyes, but he doesn't answer. Harry smiles a bit. “In that case, do you mind if I have this?” He points to the diary. Dumbledore raises his eyebrows, but nods his head once. Harry grins and takes off with it. 

“Mr. Malfoy! Mr. Malfoy, wait!” Harry calls after the man. He turns with an irritated sigh, and Harry notes Dobby cowering behind him. “You forgot something.” Harry says, and hands out the diary. 

“Why- you-” Mr. Malfoy cuts himself off and grabs the diary roughly. He slams it into Dobbys chest, and Harry has to fight the laugh crawling up his chest. 

Open it, he mouths to Dobby. By the time the house elf has discovered the wet, slimy sock, Harry has already backed away a few feet. 

“Come along Dobby.” Mr. Malfoy says, but Dobby doesn't move. 

“Master has given Dobby a sock.” The elf says, and Lucius freezes. “Dobby is free!”

Mr. Malfoy turns, and Harry's wand is already out, prepared for the temper. “How dare you!” The man shouts, but Harry is casting an expelliarmus before he's even got his wand pointed. Harry smiles when Dobby plants himself in front of him, and Mr. Malfoy accepts defeat far easier than Harry thought he would. 

Outside the infirmary, Harry hears shouting, and then Ms. Pomfrey is pushing Mr. Malfoy out the door, an angry finger to his chest. 

“I have never in my life heard such language from an adult wizard!” She shouts at him, and while Mr. Malfoy towers over her, he looks properly afraid. She continues shouting and pushing him, until they round the corner. Harry sneaks into the hospital room, and finds a pale faced Draco and a wide eyed Hermione staring at the wall across from their beds. 

“Alright then?” He says, and they both jump, turning to look at him. 

“Harry!” Hermione shouts, sitting up and smiling at him. Draco gives him what could pass as a smile but is definitely more of a grimace, and then looks down at his lap. 

“What was that?” He stuck a thumb over his shoulder, and Hermione’s smile dropped. 

“Uh well, Draco’s father, he wasn’t too happy about-“ she started, but Draco cuts her off. 

“He arrived before the de-petrification happened. He was quite angry about me holding a-“ he takes a deep breath- “a ‘mudblood’s’ hand.”

“Oh” Harry said, as the two of them seemed to deflate even more. Then deciding not to hold his thoughts in, “Well he sounds like a git, no offence.” 

Draco laughed as Hermione smiled down into her lap, looking up at her quickly and then back down again. 

“He’s an idiot. I’m pretty sure Hermione is already a better witch than him.” Draco says, and Hermione smiles shyly at him, but looks away just as quickly. Harry smiles, proud of the progress they've all made. For now he thinks they’ll be okay. 

The train ride home is different than last year, as their compartment is suddenly crowded with the four of them, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and, oddly enough, Theo. Harry isn’t sure how they all ended up here, but the conversation is flowing and everyone seems to be laughing and enjoying themselves, so he just decides to enjoy it until they get to London.


	4. The Prisoner of Azkaban pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Basil come back for year three. Everything changes after this year.

Harry Potter turns Aunt Marge into the equivalent of a hot air balloon, and laughs with delight as she floats away. The horrible woman deserved it, and he thinks Aunt Petunia might secretly agree with him, if the small smile she covers at Marge floating away is any indication. Aunt Petunia might’ve hated his mother, but he thinks she might hate Aunt Marge just as much. 

Still, Uncle Vernon is furious, and Harry runs and grabs his things, gathers Basil and releases Hedwig in a rush, Basil curling around his wrist as he grabs his trunk and yanks it down the stairs. He raises his wand at Uncle Vernon, who sees Basil raise her head from the end of it, and he backs off quickly, leaving Harry the space to escape. 

Except he can’t think of where to go. He sits heavily on the curb. Mrs. Weasley might take him, but he’s not sure he wants to put more strain on their food and space again, he thinks they might even still be on their holiday in Egypt. Hermione, except it would take more muggle money than he could ever afford to reach her. He nearly laughs aloud at the idea of showing up at Draco’s, the expression on his father's face would almost be worth it. But Harry can’t really bring himself to do any of those things, to impose on any of them like that. 

It’s just as he comes to that conclusion that the bushes across the road rustle, and Basil’s head snaps towards it, growing larger in size until she has to release his wrist and slide next to him. He raises his wand in automatic defense, but stumbles back when the head of a large black dog emerges. Basil flutters her wings, but just as suddenly, they still, and she leans back, tilting her head as if listening to the growls of the dog. The dog takes another step forward, and Harry steps back, tripping on the curb and falling over. The large dog is still moving, but before it can really get any closer a large blue bus suddenly arrives, and Basil shrinks back, curls around his wrist. 

The night bus is almost more terrifying than the basilisk, but eventually they arrive at the Leaky Cauldron, and he takes shakes steps off the bus. He’s greeted by Tom, who leads him to a room where the bloody minister of magic is waiting for him. 

“Harry my boy!” He says, voice almost sounding nervous. “Good to see you!” 

And apparently it is because Harry isn’t even in trouble for turning aunt Marge into a balloon, in fact the minister seems so relieved to have Harry there and safe, he just skips right over it. It’s very suspicious to him, and if the way Basil tightens, to her as well. 

It’s not until an hour after Fudge leaves that Harry remembers the dog, and he turns to Basil, who’s curled up on the bed, but already looking at him, as if she’s been waiting for him to remember.

“What was that dog?” He asks, and she almost seems to sigh. 

“I don’t know, I don’t think it was a normal dog, not really.” She hissed back. 

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t speak dog, obviously, but it seemed as though it was trying to tell me something. Something about you.” She said, slithering towards him and reaching until she could fall across his shoulders. She curled up there, and the weight felt comforting to both of them. 

“I wonder what.” He mused, before turning to look at the stack of school books the minister had apparently arranged for him ahead of time. One of them, he noticed, was moving, rustling in a way. He picked it up carefully, and was about to open the clasp when Basil suddenly smacked his hand with her tail. “Ouch!” He said, dropping the book and looking at her in surprise. 

“You must rub the spine first.” She hissed, and he rolled his eyes at her. 

“You could’ve just said so.” If she could smile, Harry imagined that’s what she’d be doing right now. He picked up the book and did as she said, the book calming instantly. He opened it to the first page and wasn’t very surprised to see it was for magical creatures. He closed it without looking further, and Basil huffed out her version of a laugh. 

In the morning, down in the pub area of the Leaky Cauldron, he watched fondly from the stairs as Hermione and Ron argued against each other, a giant, ugly cat in Hermione’s hands. 

“That thing almost killed Scabbers!” He was shouting, and Hermione indignantly defended her “cat”.

“Maybe don’t let Scabbers run away, Ron.” Harry called down, and they both turned to look up at him with large smiles. 

“Harry!” Hermione said, while Ron grinned. He nearly ran down the rest of the stairs, and then straight into their arms. Over their heads he noticed Mrs. Weasley eyeing them, her eyes narrowed slightly, until she saw him watching and she looked away. Harry knew Mrs. Weasley actually liked him and Hermione very much, but he had a feeling the emerald green Slytherin sweaters all three of them were wearing still weren’t very pleasing to her. Mr. Weasley on the other hand, grinned at Harry from behind her, with a large wave. 

“How was your summer, mate?” Ron asked, and they caught up over it all, up until the night before. Harry leaned in closer to tell them about the dog, but before he could finish, Mr. Weasley walked up to them. 

“Er- Harry, mind if I borrow you for a moment?” He asked, and Harry really couldn’t remember talking to Mr. Weasley for more than a few sentences before, but he seemed very serious. He followed him around the corner, near the posted news papers about Sirius Black. 

“Harry,” he began, “there are many people who do not wish me to tell you what I am about to say.” His eyes flickered towards Mrs. Weasly, and Basil shifted where she was curled around his bicep. “But I think it’s important to tell you the truth.”

“What is it?” He asked, understanding suddenly that whatever was about to be said would probably change his life. 

“Sirius Black,” Mr. Weasley began again, Harry’s eyes flickered to the papers stuck to the walls, “escaped from Azkaban.”

“Yeah I read that, who exactly is he?” Harry asked. 

“He was… a friend of your parents.” Mr. Weasley said softly, maybe expecting Harry to gasp or something. But Harry only nodded, so he continued after a short pause. “Many believe that he is the reason you-know-who was able to find your parents. They also believe he'll be after you.”

“Oh.” Harry said, looking away from Mr. Weasley. Basil squeezed him twice in comfort before relaxing again, and he looked back up at him. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Of course, Harry.” He nodded back, looking a bit confused by Harry’s lack of reaction, before turning towards his wife again. She looked disapprovingly at him and then at Harry with concern, before her eyes flickered to his sweater again, and she turned away, but not before he caught the narrowing of her eyes. 

When he sat back with Ron and Hermione they asked what Mr. Weasley had said, but he told them they should wait for the train in the morning, to let Draco know at the same time. They weren’t very happy with that, but he refused to budge. He needed time to process on his own. 

The day passed quickly, they spent some time in Diagon Alley, and Harry snuck away to Knockturn briefly, bought Ron a new book, full of the dark curses he’d been so fascinated with last year. He also found a good set of dark magic history books for Hermione and Draco to pour over together. It probably should have worried him a bit more that he and his friends were interested in these subjects, but it didn’t. 

The train ride didn’t go exactly as planned, as the only compartment available that would fit them all had a man fast asleep under a cloak in it. But Harry whispered to the other three what had happened at the Dursleys and outside with the dog, and then explained about Sirius Black. Draco looked contemplative, while Ron and Hermione looked at him with worrisome eyes. After a moment a bit of that steely determination entered Hermione’s, suddenly making Harry feel a little bit safer. It was always a bit of a scary look, and he was grateful she was one of his best friends

“It doesn’t make sense.” Draco said suddenly, finally looking back up at Harry. “Look, my mother was a Black, cousins with Sirius. He left his family, he didn’t agree with anything about them, thought they were all prejudiced. He’d been burned from our family tree. He was in gryffindor for Merlin’s sake.”

“What are you saying?” Hermione asked, clearly as confused as Harry was. 

“Based on what I know, Sirius Black couldn’t have been further from the dark lo-” he blushed at his slip up, “I mean you-know-who's inner circle, he would never have joined him. According to my family that was a shameful thing,” he rolled his eyes, “I know it sounds ridiculous but I just find it hard to believe he would have been working for him.”

“Huh.” Harry said, leaning back against the train wall. Basil wound around his neck, growing enough to add a nice cousin, and he patted her head fondly. But he noticed after a moment that she was staring at Scabbers with a sort of intensity he hadn't seen before. 

“What?” He asked her. She looked away from Scabbers and spoke directly into his ear, as if afraid someone else could hear her. 

“You remember what I told you about that dog not feeling like a dog?” She asked and he nodded. “I feel the same way about Scabbers.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know yet. I didn’t realise it until now..” She hissed, sounding irritated with herself. She shrunk again, sliding into his robe pocket to hide, apparently not wanting to talk anymore. He decided to keep her thoughts to himself for now. 

They were about halfway there when the train slowed, and foggy darkness fell outside it. Ron pressed a finger to the window, but drew back sharply, telling them it was ice cold. They all jumped as a shadowy figure flew past the window. 

Then, Harry heard the screams. 

It didn’t take long for them to reach the compartments next to them, and then Harry saw why. Floating by was a large, cloaked creature, and when it turned to them Harry saw it had no face, only a large hole, like a mouth. He suddenly was freezing, and the lights around him began to dim. He felt Basil move frantically, moving under his shirt and towards his heart as if to make sure it was still beating, but it felt far away. As the light faded it turned, until he saw a green flash, the same one he often used to dream about, and then a woman’s scream. 

When Harry woke, the others were watching over him while talking to the other man in their compartment. His raggedy appearance was in contrast to the way he spoke, as he handed Harry pieces of chocolate and explained that those creatures were something called dementors. 

“They’re here for Sirius Black.” Basil whispered, curled up behind his ear again now that she knew he was okay. He repeated this in English, and Professor Lupin nodded sagely. 

“Yes, I’d heard the ministry had dispatched some to Hogwarts.” He eyed Harry, but didn’t say aloud what they all knew he was thinking. That Sirius Black would come to Hogwarts for Harry, to finish the job as many thought. But all Harry could think about was Draco’s doubts about that. 

When the train finally arrived, Madam Pomfrey was there, handing chocolates to students and looking angrier than Harry’d ever seen her. She tried to give them some, but they held up the last of the pieces Professor Lupin had given them. 

Dumbledore seemed angry as well, although he hid it very well. His speech was light, but gave grave warnings about staying away from the dementors, and Harry could see the cool fire in his eyes as he talked about them. But just as soon as it was there, it was gone, and the welcome feast began. 

Ron, of course, had no trouble eating. His plate was stuffed full and Hermione rolled her eyes as he wolfed it down like a starved beast. In contrast, Harry had barely finished a cup of stew when his stomach rolled again at the thought of the dementors. He didn’t eat much more, and he noticed a few others around the hall, doing the same thing, possibly feeling the same way. 

But as classes started the next day, the dementors slipped his mind. Potions and Transfiguration were going to be more challenging than he thought this year, and then there was Care for Magical Creatures. 

He was excited about Hagrid teaching, of course he was, but he was also aware that Hagrid’s sense of safe animals, and the rest of the worlds’ idea of safe animals were vastly different. And he was very unsurprised when the first thing they introduced them to was a large flying bird-beast. 

He was also unsurprised when he somehow ended up the first volunteer, and then flying on Buckbeak’s back. Because these sorts of things always tended to happen to him. It was very thrilling, although terrifying as well, and he kind of felt like screaming into the sky. So he did.

Buck beak circled high above the school, and then turned back towards the forest. As he did so, Basil climbed down Harry’s arm, and then took what amounted to a giant leap off of him and Buckbeak. Harry’s heart sank into his stomach, but just as suddenly as the terror hit, Basil suddenly grew ten times, and her wings sprouted high. She kept pace with them easily, spinning through the air and dodging around Buckbeak, until Hagrid’s whistle called Buckbeak back. In an impressive twist, Basil shrunk as she dove, landing right in Harry’s robe pocket. 

He wondered suddenly what it would be like to ride Basil herself. 

Draco and Hermione were both scribbling notes, staring at Buckbeak in awe, while the other students continued to stay far back. Harry wanted to roll his eyes at them all, but he understood. 

“How am I doing?” Hagrid whispered to him. 

“Amazing.” He whispered back, smiling, but just then, Buckbeak gave a start and reared up. 

Draco had moved too close for comfort, his nose in his notebook, without bowing properly, Buckbeak was frightened, or maybe offended, and before Draco could scramble back, came crashing down, his claws sinking into his arm. 

Harry and Hermione were there first, Ron close behind, and they all watched in horror as blood started pouring down his arm. Hagrid gruffly pushed them out of the way, gathering Malfoy up, and began running towards the castle, the other three following as close behind as they could. 

They had to send a letter to Draco’s father of course, and of course Mr. Malfoy threw a fit, even though Draco was healed within the hour with barely a scar left. But Mr. Malfoy was on a rampage, and Draco told them all the details as he got them. 

Apparently he was planning on going around to the ministry education board and asking signatures for Hagrid to be fired, as well as Buckbeak executed. Draco was angry at him about it, as he felt it was his fault for getting too close to Buckbeak. He’d tried to explain to his father, but he wouldn’t have it. He looked defeated, and even the new books Harry and gotten him and Hermione did little to cheer him up. (Although, Harry did catch the two of them pouring over one a week later.)

It took time, Draco said, for his father to make his rounds getting signatures and being a ‘political menace’ as he put it, so he figured they had a few weeks, possibly months, before it would happen. 

In the meantime, they had their first DADA class. To say Harry was unsurprised that Ron’s greatest fear was a large spider would be an understatement, or that Hermione’s was failing a class. But he was surprised by Draco’s. He watched as Pavarti Patil’s snake turned jack-in-the-box, evolved, twisting and reshaping, until suddenly Luscious Malfoy was walking towards him, his signature cane gripped tightly in his hand. Draco muttered “ridiculous” faster than anyone else, and Luscious sprouted horns and a nose like a deer, but Draco was already turning away. He stood close to Hermione and glared at the ground while she gripped his elbow.

Harry realised he was next, and tried to push thoughts of everyone else’s fears out of his mind, thinking of his own, but he settled too quickly on the dementors, twisting and reshaping before his eyes, and he was struck with that same fear from the train, almost paralysed with it. Before he could shake himself, even think to raise his wand, Professor Lupin was there. A shining full moon turned into a balloon, and he directed the bogart back into the cabinet, ignoring the protests of the other students. Harry however, was quite grateful, as he felt shaken.

As the days passed Harry’s focus became occupied with the dementors, and by extension, Sirius Black. 

He and Hermione had tried to research him in the library, but there was nothing there, they couldn’t even find something akin to a muggle yearbook. The only thing Harry knew was that Sirius Black had been close to his parents, that they had trusted him. 

Draco, Hermione, and Ron went to Honeydukes without him. He had tried to ask Professor Snape to sign his paper for him, but he had simply scoffed at him. He probably should have known better, but he was still disappointed and still feeling a bit put out. So, he took Basil to the Lake, with so few students still at the castle she was able to stretch herself, relax in the little bit of sunshine and fly over the lake briefly.

She was speaking to one of the lake folk, what could have been a mermaid or a grindylow, Harry really couldn’t tell from the distance, when she suddenly stiffened and flew back to him, shrinking down, wrapping around his ear. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” He asked, reaching up to pet her with his finger.

“They saw that dog. The one in the bushes.” She whispered, shifting agitatedly.

“What, here?” He asked, ignoring the chill that ran down his back. 

“Yes, but they said he wasn’t just a dog. He’s something else.” She slid down into his shirt pocket again, something that he was starting to realise meant she didn’t want to talk anymore. He huffed and stood, heading back toward the castle, when he heard someone shouting for him.

“Theo?” He asked, confused, until Draco, Hermione, and Ron materialised a few feet behind him.

“Your friends are so slow.” Theo drawled, Harry looked him up and down.

“Might have more to do with the length of your legs than with them.” Theo smirked at him, but kept walking, ignoring as Draco called out for him to stay.

“Hey, mate.” Ron said, holding up a bag for Harry to take. Harry opened it to see two chocolate frogs and a box of sweets he didn't recognise.

“Thanks!” Harry said, while they all headed inside, towards their dormitory. Draco was telling a story, something about Ron and slipping, but Harry was distracted by the crowd of people outside their common room door. Harry pushed forward, through the crowds while the others followed, until he reached the door. It had been slashed, something like claws against it, and it looked as though the hinges were twisted slightly, like a great force had tried to tear it open. 

Dumbledore and Snape were there seconds later, investigating, when Basil slid from his pocket to his ear. He waited for her to speak, but she seemed to just be watching, waiting like him for one of the Professors to say something. 

“It must be Black.” He barely heard Snape whisper, looking to Dumbledore and then to Harry, before turning back to the door.

“Lucky,” Dumbledore said, “that your door is so sturdy, Severus.” He turned then to look at the students gathered behind him. “Students, please head to the Great Hall. Professor Snape and I will investigate your dorms, and bring you back when it has been cleared. Do not go anywhere else but the Great Hall.”

The students shuffled awkwardly away, whispering to each other, and Harry let himself be pushed along with them, until he saw the bathroom, sliding inside quickly and letting the rush of students pass. After checking to make sure the hallway was empty, he slipped out and tiptoed back down towards the common room door. He leaned around the corner, just as Snape walked through and closed the door behind him. Harry huffed, realising he’d missed his chance to eavesdrop on anything more, and was about to head to the great hall when Basil moved.

“I’ll be back,” she whispered to him, “go to the Great Hall.” She slid towards the door, and shrunk herself smaller than he’d ever seen, sliding through the crack where the hinges had been bent. Harry watched until she disappeared, and then turned around, going to the Great Hall to tell the others.

By the time the professors came back, Harry was starting to worry. They ushered the students straight into the common room, and they all quickly dispersed to their bedrooms. Harry let out possibly the biggest sigh of relief when he saw Basil curled up on his pillow.

“I was worried.” He said, and she curled comfortingly on his chest once he lay down. “Did you learn anything?”

“Nothing new, just that they’re all worried he’s after you.” She sounded skeptical however.

“You don’t think he’s after me?” 

“I think the truth is often not what we think.”

“Cryptic.” He said, rolling his eyes. She nuzzled his chin, but that seemed to be the end of it.

As the weeks went by and quidditch started again, Harry let Black slip from his mind. On the day of their match against Ravenclaw, he even forgot about the dementors. That is, until he was up in the cloud bank and they were suddenly all around him. He knew he was far from the pitch, but he was not far enough that he would’ve come close to the Hogwarts barrier. 

That was his last thought before the lights around him began to dim again, and he felt himself lose his grip on his broom, falling as darkness descended and he heard that woman’s scream again. 

When Harry awoke, Draco, Hermione, Ron, and oddly enough Theo were all sitting close to his infirmary bed. Their team was sitting on the other, now empty beds. 

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed when she realised he was awake, and everyone’s eyes snapped to him. Marcus rose slowly, a bundle of branches in his arms. 

“What happened?” He asked no one in particular. It was Ron who spoke up first. 

“The dementors, Harry, they came to the quidditch pitch!” He shook his head angrily. “Dumbledore was furious, there’s a rumour he disapparated straight to the ministers office and yelled at him!”

“That’s just a rumour Ron, he didn’t really do that.” Hermione rolled her eyes and Ron huffed, crossing his arms. 

“How would you know.” He muttered, but Hermione had moved on. 

“They called the match a draw, so none of our stats have changed.” Draco said, and then looked at Marcus. “But uh, there’s something else.”

Marcus brought the pile of sticks closer, and a sense of dread filled Harry’s stomach. He laid them gently by his feet, and Harry gasped. His Nimbus 2001 was shattered, absolutely ruined. Harry felt crushed, but the sudden feeling of Basil sliding up his arm and towards his ear soothed him slightly. 

“I’m not letting you get on a broom without me again.” She hissed at him, and it made him laugh inside. Outside though, he knew his face looked devastated. It was kind of funny that Harry had fought Voldemort twice but in this moment he felt more upset about his broom than that. 

A few days later Madam Pomfrey finally, finally realised Harry. He beelined for the DADA classroom, and was relieved to find Professor Lupin alone. 

“Sir,” he said, “may I have a word?” 

“Oh,” Professor Lupin looked up from a moon chart, “of course Harry, come in. How can I help you?”

“Sir, I wondered what you could tell me about-“

“About the dementors?” He interrupted, and Harry nodded. “They’re a nasty species. Quite volatile really. They guard the prison Azkaban, I trust you are familiar?”

“That’s where Sirius Black escaped from, it's why they’re here, looking for him. Because they think he’s after me.” Harry responder, and Lupin nodded. 

“Yes, but do you know why they guard Azkaban?”

“No, sir.” Harry shook his head. 

“A dementor has a special power, Harry. They have an effect as if they are sucking all the joy, all the good things out of the world, out of a person. They guard Azkaban because they cause a sense of hopelessness, leaving prisoners incapable of escaping.” Professor Lupin took a deep breath. “And, they have a very keen sense for their prisoners, able to track them wherever they are. It’s what makes the prison so impossible to escape.”

“But Sirius Black did it.”

“Yes, that he did.” Professor Lupin looked very sad for a moment, as if lost in a memory, before he shook his head and looked back at Harry. “Now, Harry, Tell me what you really want to ask.”

“How do you fight off a dementor, sir? They seem to affect me much more than others and I would like to protect myself.” Lupin smiled softly at him. 

“You sound like your mother.”

“You knew my parents?” Harry asked, surprised. 

“Oh yes,” Lupin breathed deep, a soft smile on his face, “we were in school together, we were very good fiends. You look so much like James, except for the-“

“Eyes, I know.” Harry smiled, but Lupin shook his head. 

“It’s not just eyes Harry, it’s your spirit, the way you hold yourself. Lily was smart, a very ambitious witch, much like yourself. She had a strong desire to learn. Many in our house thought she would’ve made a good Slytherin, much like you, if it weren’t for being muggle born.”

“Really?” Harry asked, surprised as no one had ever said anything of the sort to him before.

“Oh yes, Lily was absolutely brilliant, and completely brutal when she wanted to be.” He adopted that same look again, lost in a memory, before shaking himself out of it. “Right then! Dementors. There is one spell to fight against the dementors, but it is a very strong, advanced magic.”

“I’d like to try, sir.” Harry said firmly, and Lupin smiled again. 

“Very well!” He clapped his hands together. “Why don’t we start just after the holidays?”

“Thank you, sir” Harry beamed, feeling better for the first time since he saw his broom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey I'm back hello it's been a month. I actually forgot that I had posted this lol. anyways everything changes next chapter, and low-key it's a bit lazily written but I actually don't have the energy to go in and rewrite nor make it better, sorry ya'll. enjoy!


	5. Prisoner of Azkaban pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so poorly written I’m so sorry

Fred and George Weasly somehow find him, even under the invisibility cloak, and hand him a map that changes everything. With this, Harry can go anywhere in the castle, anywhere he wants, and never get caught. 

He goes to Hogsmead, and has to stifle his laughter as he steals a lollipop from Neville, who looks around terrified. He finds Ron, walking in the joke shop with his brothers, laughing, and it’s so good to see. But he continues on, spotting Hermione and Draco walking ahead of him, and can’t control his laughter then, watching as they discuss the different rumours of the shrieking shack, and Draco makes a distasteful joke that makes her scoff and turn away. 

“Hey.” He says, and they both jump about a foot in the air, he drops the cloak from his head and they all start laughing. He dons the cloak again to follow them, but get distracted when Cornelius Fudge and Professor McGonagall start talking with Madame Rosmerta about Sirius Black. 

He sneaks into the bar behind them, listening raptly, until the word “godfather” hits his ears. Then the ringing starts, and the next thing he knows, he’s racing back towards the shrieking shack. He deosn’t realise he’s crying until Hermione pulls the cloak off him.

“Harry, what happened?” She asks, and he breaks.

“He was their friend, and he betrayed them.” He took in a deep breath.” And, he’s my godfather.”

“Shit.” Draco said, the bluntness of it startles a strangled laugh out of Harry. 

~~~

Learning to cast a patronus is not easy. Even with just the bogart pretending to be one, Harry stutters through it, and passes out again. Basil comfortingly lies on his stomach, and Harry ignores the way Lupin eyes her. 

The next time, now that he understands that the feeling of riding a broom isn’t enough, he thinks of his parents. He thinks of the one memory he has, of a woman with red hair, a man with askew glasses, all laughing above him, talking to someone he can just barely see, but not recognise. It’s melancholy, nostalgic, not necessarily happy, but full of joy. And it works, it takes all his energy, but it works, and Basil circles in his shirt pocket excitedly. 

“I believe you would have given both your parents a run for their money.” Professor Lupin says, smiling at him, making pride swell in Harry. 

~~~

The four of them walk down to Hagrid’s, and Harry’s barely listening to Ron and Hermione arguing with each other, until Ron says his name.

“What?” he says lamely, and they all roll their eyes at him.

“Ronald is trying to accuse Crookshanks of eating his rat, when really his rat has likely run away because he can’t take care of it!” Hermione huffs, crossing her arms angrily.

“No! Harry come on, you’ve seen that cat, the way it stalks him, it’s got to be his fault!”

“Ron,” Draco interrupts, “I have seen the way you take care of Scabbers, he definitely just ran away.”

Hermione laughed with him, slowing her pace so they could walk side by side, and Ron groaned, slowing to be by Harry, muttering under his breath.

“Good riddance.” Basil whispered to him, and Harry stifled a smile. He couldn’t argue, Scabbers was an amazingly lazy and somehow also annoying rat.

“Hagrid!” Hermione called, seeing him by the lakefront. “How did it go?”

“Well,” Hagrid huffed, throwing rocks angrily into the lake, “first the committee took turns explaining why we were there.” He threw another rock. “I told them about how Buckbeak is a good hippogriff, always cleans his feathers. And then Luscious Malfoy stood up.”

“Oh no.” Draco said, and Ron shushed him.

“He told them he was a dangerous, murderous beast, and couldn’t be allowed to live. And then-” He gave a great sob, “they sentenced him to die!”

“Fuck.” Draco and Harry said this time. Draco walked up to Hagrid and tried to wrap his arms around him as he cried, his whole body shaking. Eventually the three of them joined, trying to offer what little comfort they could.

~~~

Harry sat in bed that night, watching the Marauders Map, when Peter Pettigrew suddenly appeared. He sat upright, and Theo looked at him from the book he was reading in bed. 

“What?” He asked, a single eyebrow raised.

“Peter Pettigrew.” He whispered, and Basil suddenly sat upright. She wound her way up to his shoulder from the bedpost she’d been curled around, and stared at the map as if she could read it. Harry scrambled up after a moment, parchment clutched in his hand, and walked out the door without a thought, he didn’t even notice Theo was following until he almost slammed the dormitory door on him. But he didn’t care because Peter Pettigrew was on the map, when he should have been dead.

“Potter, what are you doing?” Theo whispered, grabbing his shoulder and trying to pull him to a stop. He shrugged him off and kept walking. “Potter!” he said a little louder.

“He’s supposed to be dead.” He whispered, and Theo let go, following quietly, likely very confused. Harry followed the map until they were in the same hallway as the footsteps marked Peter Pettigrew. “There!”

He pointed and Theo followed, lighting his own wand and they walked down the hall together, Harry followed on the map, moving as Peter Pettigrew seemed to pass between him and Theo, and then continued down the hall. Harry followed but saw nothing, confused, and tried to keep going, when he saw Snape was about to turn the corner. He quickly closed the map, watched the ink fade quickly, right as Snape walked into them. 

“Well, well, Potter and Knott. How… unexpected.” Harry didn’t think he meant that, but his eyes flickered between him and Theo quickly, obviously confused. “You’re out late, what are you doing.”

“Romantic walk, Professor.” Theo said, nose in the air. Snape scoffed but lowered the bliding light down a bit. 

“I’m sure.” He drawled, then reached out to grab the map. “And what is this?”

“Spare parchment.” Harry lied, apparently unconvincingly.

“Reveal your secrets.” Snape frowned at it, as words appeared. “Potter what is this? Some sort of dark artifact. You should know better!”

“Professor Snape, what’s going on here?” Professor Lupin suddenly appeared from nowhere, and looked down at the parchment. Harry thought he saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

“Mr. Potter and Mr. Knott seem to be wandering the castle with a cursed parchment.” Harry knew Snape well enough by now to recognise the subtle tones of sarcasm, but evidently Professor Lupin did not.

“I’m sure that’s not the case, Severus.” He said, swiftly pulling the parchment from his hands. Severus rolled his eyes, but seemed to give up easily, grabbing Theo’s elbow and pulling him along.

“I’ll take this one back, I assume you can handle the responsibility of Potter?” Snape said, but didn’t wait for a response. 

“Well, how did you come across this?” Lupin whispered, more to himself, and beckoned Harry to follow. He led the way to his classroom, and set the parchment down. “I hope you understand why I have to keep this?”

“Unfortunately, yes sir.” He said, and Lupin smiled at him. “I should tell you though, I think it’s broken.”

“Broken?” Lupin asked, surprised.

“Yes, sir, I saw someone who, well who couldn’t have been there.”

“And who might that be?”

“Peter Pettigrew.” Harry said, and watched as Lupin’s face slackened, looking at the map as his face drained of colour. 

“Impossible.” He whispered.

“I’m just telling you what I saw sir.” Harry said, but Lupin didn’t seem to hear him, was staring blankly at the parchment now. 

“Impossible.” He said again, and Harry left him to it, his own mind whirling. 

~~~

“What in the world were you looking for?” Theo asked when he got back to their room, and Harry sighed.

“Long story short, people think Sirius Black turned my parents in to Voldemort, and then killed Peter Pettigrew. When he escaped Azkaban he was doing it so he could come kill me. Except Draco’s mother was his cousin and apparently he hated Voldemort and pure-bloods more than anything, and tonight I saw Peter Pettigrew on that map, which according to Professor Lupin is impossible, and now I’ve realised I don’t really know anything.”

“Blimey.” Ron said, and Harry jerked to him, realising he and Draco were also both awake and staring. Blaise let out a large snore, hard asleep and oblivious to them. Theo coughed uncomfortably and crawled into his bed.

“Well, I for one am exhausted. Can we finish in the morning?” Theo drawled, and Draco rolled his eyes at him.

“Yes.” Harry said simply, moving to his own bed. He put his head down and within minutes was asleep, luckily a dreamless one.

In the morning he made them wait until they all found Hermione, to explain the night before. It was sort of funny how easily Theo fit into their friendship, as if he’d been there all along. And it was even better when, after finally learning everything, he stopped them all in the corridor and said what no one else was able to think.

“What if Peter Pettigrew is alive, and what if Sirius Black isn’t the one who betrayed your parents.” He mused, almost casually, easily. He blinked when he noticed all of them staring at him. “Well think about it, if Professor Lupin is right and it’s impossible for the map to be wrong, and they only found a finger of Pettigrew’s, well then logically he could still be alive.”

“Bloody hell.” Ron whispered.

“But then how has no one seen him?” Hermione asked. “If he’s been alive all this time, has he just been hiding? How would he be sneaking around the castle.”

“It’s not exactly hard. We do it all the time.” Draco said, and they all had to concede the point. 

Does that mean,” Hermione said slowly, “that Sirius Black might not be looking for Harry, but actually looking for Peter Pettigrew?”

“Shit.” Harry and Draco said at the same time. 

~~~

“Professor Lupin!” Harry shouts, walking towards him down by the forest’s edge. The others following along quickly. 

“Hello Harry, Hermione, Dra-”

“Yes, yes, all of us.” Theo interrupted and they all turned to him. “What? Just trying to move things along.”

“Fine.” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “Professor we need to talk to you about Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew.”

“Oh?” Remus said, but Harry saw the twitch under his eye, and his hand shift into a fist.

“We think they got it wrong, Profesor, I don’t think Sirius is the one who betrayed my parents. And I think when I told you I saw Peter Pettigrew on the map, you knew I was right. Is that correct?” Professor Lupin blinked at him, and his fist relaxed.

“I believe, Mr. Potter, that you would be correct.” Everything in Harry seemed to deflate, and Basil shifted slowly around his wrist, trying to comfort him. He took a deep breath in.

“Sir, what do we do?”

~~~

In the end, Harry could only look back and see it all through a haze of fog. Somehow he and the others, Professor Lupin included, had ended up at Hagrid’s house, where the map said Peter Pettigrew was hiding. It was only once Hagrid handed Scabbers back to Ron that Lupin realised, and he lost it. He’d suddenly started flashing his wand at the rat, and then the rat wasn't a rat but Peter Pettigrew and he was begging, begging Harry to let him go, to have mercy on him, and Harry really truly wasn’t going to, until a large black dog, the large black dog, burst through the door, and seized Peter by the leg. 

“Sirius!” Remus had shouted, and then the dog wasn’t a dog, but a man, and somehow in the rush Peter had a wand, and was pointing it at his forehead. But faster than anyone could see, Basil was there, her large body expanding, and then shrinking with him, keeping a tight hold around him. Quickly, Professor Lupin pointed his wand again, just as there was a knock on the door. Hagrid, who had been in a state of shock through it all, managed to open the door, to a very shocked Cornelius Fudge and Dumbledore. 

The story probably came out too quick, too jumbled, for the minister and headmaster to really follow, but they got the gist, and suddenly Peter Pettigrew was being handcuffed, brought to the highest tower in Hogwarts, and Sirius was being freed, exonerated, all charges dropped. It was around then that Harry realised this was really happening, that they had really just caught the person who betrayed his parents.

He collapsed into a chair, exhausted.

~~~

As it turned out, the ministry owed Sirius Black a serious amount of reparations, which included the rights to all of his homes, estates, and bank accounts. Draco reported that his father, who had become the defacto holder of all those accounts, was furious, which made them all smile. He told them that his mother however, had expressed her congratulations, privately, to them. 

It also turned out that Sirius Black being Harry’s godfather meant he never had to go back to the Dursleys ever again. He never had to even see them ever again, because Sirius and Professor Lupin decided to go before he even got off the train, and get his last remaining things from there. In fact, he got off the train and the three of them went straight to #12 Grimmauld Place.

Which was a disaster, but Harry kind of loved it. Loved that for the first time in his life, he had a place to come home to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they lived happily ever after because Pettigrew didn’t find moldy-mort. Jk, obviously not. But, things will be a little different from now on. I did consider letting Lupin stay the dada prof, but in the end I though meh, let him and Serius be domestic little love birds for a bit. 
> 
> Anyways I apologise for the spelling errors, the shameless coasting over the storyline, the fact that you very much need to know everything that happens in Harry Potter to understand this, I only have so much energy in between depressive episodes, but I hope you enjoy.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I actually wrote this like four years ago and found it in an old google doc. I wrote 1-4 already, so maybe I’ll try to finish them I’m enjoying it rn. I also apologise for any spelling errors, I try my best but dyslexia is a b!tch


End file.
